


Jamais Vu

by Carapheonix



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: "For The Greater Good" Ethics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BAMF Theseus Scamander, Badass War Hero - Theseus Scamander, Blow Jobs, Death Eaters, Dirty Talk, M/M, Manipulation, Manipulation as Flirtation, Moral Ambiguity, Multi, Polyamory, Pre-Movie 1: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Prophetic Visions, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Temporary Leta Lestrange/Theseus Scamander, Threesome - M/M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2020-04-12 08:39:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19128484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carapheonix/pseuds/Carapheonix
Summary: As the green light flashes it gets so bright as to blind him and when he closes his eyes against it he opens them to his room.  He’s sprawled out on his bed, breathing heavily, tears drying on his face and an uneasy feeling settling heavy in his chest.  It seems as though in the end, regret was his only companion.“Well,” he murmurs to himself, a hand coming up to press the blood pact more firmly to his heart as he begins to plan. “This simply won’t do.”Or: Gellert Grindelwald gets a vision of his future and decides: "Fuck that noise."





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I obviously can't leave well enough alone and I should be under constant supervision because this just kind of came out of nowhere and bit me on the ass. 
> 
> I'll try and update as much as I can but I do lose motivation quickly so feel free to pester me about updating. It'll honestly help get you chapters faster so don't feel bad about it, just don't do it if I've updated in the last two-three days. :)
> 
> This will be endgame OT3 of Albus/Theseus/Gellert until then there will be pairings such as Leta/Theseus and Gellert/Albus. This is going to be a slow burn fic but I'll do my best to make it interesting!

**_Gerllert_ **

 

          Gellert knows from the moment the world fades into view around him that this isn’t just a dream.  The details are slipping between a sharp crystal clarity and the haziness of a dubious future but it’s enough for him to know with a horrifying certainty that the carnage he is seeing is his most possible future.  It’s worse than anything he’s ever seen. Worse than the war and seeming to be even worse than what he’s seen so far of the coming war. Because this is almost solely between the wizarding community. Such devastating loss of magical lives and for such a ridiculous reason.

          He sees them with their newspapers covered in what he guesses are slurs and he sees even the Ministry become poisoned with such hateful rhetoric.  The whole of wizarding society festering like an open wound, and just as fatal. Merlin, the casualties listed… would there even be anyone left? He sees them, more than a few of the families of his own followers, sliding on the robes and masks of this horrible monster of a man.  Sees the wizarding world ripped into pieces and then in enough detail to leave him horrified and trembling with rage and grief is Albus.

          He’s much older and fighting the man in the Ministry, then the man is ordering his followers to kill Albus, then Albus is drinking from a chalice over and over as a young man forces him to down the concoction even as he begs for relief. Gellert begs with him. Finally- Finally he sees Albus in a tower he’s begging a man who flicks his wrist and with a flash of green light Albus begins to fall. Gellert can’t seem to breathe, his grief is choking him in his sleep and great rasping sobs are ripping free from his throat and he can’t wake up. Not yet, not yet, it’s not finished.

          Then, he’s pushed through a kaleidoscope of images of various people, magical and muggle alike, being cut down until he can taste blood in his mouth and then there he is suddenly, looking at himself.  He’s older, quite a bit so in fact and it seems he did not at all age gracefully in his captivity. For that is exactly what he seems to be in, captivity. He’s sitting in a very familiar cell in his fortress, the one he keeps reserved for his most dangerous enemies.  Nigh on impregnable from the inside of it, it’s apparent that this wonderful little feature is being used on **_him._ **  The irony doesn’t escape him, or his visitor, because he is not, it seems, alone.

          The man is there.  Though the conversation fades in and out Gellert finds himself grinning and cheering himself on with each quip and rebuttal against the man and watches with a solemn kind of pride as he takes the secrets of the Elder Wand to his grave. As the green light flashes it gets so bright as to blind him and when he closes his eyes against it he opens them to his room.  He’s sprawled out on his bed, breathing heavily, tears drying on his face and an uneasy feeling settling heavy in his chest. It seems as though in the end, regret was his only companion.

          “Well,” he murmurs to himself, a hand coming up to press the blood pact more firmly to his heart as he begins to plan. “This simply won’t do.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

          It’s easy enough from there to decide to postpone his plans until he has dealt with this new threat.  It’s even easier a pitch to a few of his followers, carefully weeding out which of them would have any future connection to this dark wizard.  Most don’t yet know of his vision of the second world war so he easily switches out the visions he shares with them until they two are reeling back in horror and reaffirming their loyalty.  The ones that do know he shows anyway, telling them of this newer and greater threat. Spinning his words like a spell in their ears as they watch blood soak into the ground and great scores of people die. They too, swear again their allegiance.

          He picks up a quill and begins to write down everything he knows even the seemingly irrelevant information he saw.  Once done, he sends his best people out to watch the families of the dark wizards and witches he saw. Then he takes a few days to try to search for a future that can subvert this one.  He takes a ridiculous number of potions designed to induce visions and burns incense day and night but it isn't until the fourth day that he has any luck.  He takes this latest potion, leans back against his bed and takes a deep breath. Focusing as much as he can on trying to see into the future again.  What would prevent this great tragedy? The answer, when it eventually- arduously- comes is enough to leave him speechless for a long moment.

          Because he sees it.  Letters sent by owl to the head auror, clandestine meetings with Albus that turn from professional to more.. _intimate_ in nature, and finally he sees himself confirming that the visions he saw are gone and receiving a pardon and immunity deal from the Minister of Magic himself.  But of course, it doesn’t stop there. His next vision is slightly different, he wakes up in his own body, years into the future and is now experiencing everything directly, a relatively new effect of his visions that he’s not sure if he’s about to enjoy.  

          He feels the soft cool cotton sheets slide across his skin as he stretches out, feels the skin under his fingertips as he runs them over the muscled back in front of him, tastes the warm skin along a shoulder with his lips and tongue and hears the low moan it results in.  He knows that he and his bed partner are naked beneath the sheets and knows exactly where this memory is going. He’s amused though, and curious, and so doesn’t pull himself free of the vision. That turns out to have been a great idea as it turns out because he is then stunned as another person presses against his back and he hears Albus’ words whispered against his ear.

          “Why are you always starting without me,” it’s teasing, sounding more approving than anything else.  Albus’ hand wraps around him underneath the covers and he muffles his own groan by sinking his teeth into the juncture of neck and throat of the man before him who moans his name and rocks backwards to meet him. The voice sounds vaguely familiar but he can’t place it and is, understandably, distracted.

          “Now, now,” Albus teases again. “Don’t leave poor Theseus out, Gellert.”

          Theseus… Theseus Scamander?  The war hero? He recalled the man with black hair, tall, with broad shoulders and a sharp jawline.  Beautiful, he remembered even as his hand slid around his waist to pull tightly against a nipple as Albus muttered a spell and lined him up to thrust against the magically lubed cleft of his ass.

          “I love you,” he heard himself groan. “I love you, both of you.  Stay with me. Just stay with me.”

          “Of course,” Theseus murmured back as Albus hummed an affirmative into his skin. Finally, Theseus turned his head and there he was, Theseus Scamander looking at him with a soft expression even as his eyes dilated and his breath came quick. “We love you, too, you idiot.  Why would we go anywhere?”

          “Yes,” Albus agreed in between trailing kisses along Gellert’s neck and shoulder. “I believe we deserve a vacation after saving the wizarding and muggle worlds alike.  And I know exactly how to spend it.”

          Gellert laughed as Albus pushed his hips forward just as Theseus sank back and suddenly he was sinking into him and his laugh became a strangled sort of groan that caused them all to cling to each other desperately.

          Gellert’s eyes blink open and his breath comes quick as he adjusts himself and thinks back on everything.  He loved them. He could feel it there, in that last vision, tangled up with them as the early morning sun shone faintly through their window.  He hadn’t felt that in such a long time. Albus, a relationship he long since thought lost, returned to him with a new love. He could feel his love for Albus in the vision still just as great and blinding to look at as it’s always been but now it was matched by this fierce and strong love he felt for Theseus.

          Gellert wasn’t sure about much, such as his apparently domesticated lifestyle in the future, but of one thing he was certain.  He was so happy in that vision, the happiest he’s ever been, and- he decided determinedly, he **_would_ ** have that future.  No matter what he had to do and who he had to play nice with.  

          After all, you can catch more flies with honey.

 

 


	2. Theseus' Terrible No Good Horrible Bad Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! And of course you're welcome to come and chat with me and others on the Discord server for the OT3 posted at the end. 
> 
> I haven't really had any of this edited so feel free to call attention to errors and the like so I can fix them. I looked it over myself but I'm sure I missed quite a bit.

_**Theseus** _   

 

           Theseus was having a horrible day.  It seemed as though every few minutes someone was calling his name, dropping a stack of paperwork on his desk, or pulling him into a meeting.  He understands though, it’s not every day the most famous dark wizard in the world leaves another dark wizard gift wrapped with a vial full of memories of evidence on the ministry’s door step with the first and last name of the Head Auror written on a note and stuck the wizard’s forehead with a sticking charm.  Theseus was a little frantic himself. He’d known that his name was pretty well known, especially in Britain but was uncertain what exactly he’d ever really done to attract Grindelwald’s attention.

          They went over every inch of the note, the wizard himself, and the vial full of memories with a variety of high-level curse detection charms and various other precautions before finally beginning to explore the gathered evidence and while it was true that the man was committing several crimes there was little evidence as to why, all of a sudden, Grindelwald had decided to turn him in. Even the suspect had no idea why he was brought in, claiming that Grindelwald’s men just showed up after he had committed the latest deed to attack him and the last thing he remembered was the stunning spell that sent him reeling into unconsciousness.

          Naturally, they had sent word to Albus Dumbledore requesting his insight and for once the response was instant. ‘I’m on my way.’  Albus had damn near arrived before his own reply. So here he was, rushing back and forth between his office, the conference room, and the interrogation room while signing paperwork, barking orders, and trying to think back on the last time he’d ever even interacted with Grindelwald for more than a moment.  Albus was just as confused, suggesting that he may be doing it to try to drive a wedge between himself and Travers or otherwise cause Travers to doubt him. But Theseus was unsure of that as well.

          It isn’t until he sees Leta standing at the door to his office, coat in her hand, and expectant smile on her face that he realizes they’re late for dinner.  Not only that, he realizes as he comes to a stop just in front of her, but he won’t be able to go at all. As it is, he was only going back to grab some files for yet another meeting, this time with the Magical Law Enforcement Division heads, Albus Dumbledore, and the minister himself.   She must have read this in his expression because before he can even open his mouth to give his excuses she’s kissing him three times on the mouth and telling him she’ll see him at home.

          He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that he’ll likely be here all night.

          It takes another 2 hours for the meeting to finally come to a close and though protocols are put in place and security is doubled -and surveillance added to the area surrounding Theseus’ residence with Leta- there weren’t any actual decisions made about what this could mean.  So, exhausted and even more frustrated now than before the meeting, Theseus flings himself down on the sofa in his office and buries his face in the crook of his elbow.

          He’s not sure how much time passes but when he finally raises his head it’s to the sight of Albus Dumbledore reclining in the chair across from him.  Albus has helped himself to what looks to be about half a glass of firewhiskey and is staring at him intently in the dim lighting of his office. Theseus has to work to avoid jumping right out of his skin in fright at his unexpected presence.

          “Albus,” Theseus tries to say evenly. By the somewhat amused twinkle in his former professor’s eyes he realizes it didn’t come out quite like he hoped. “Is there another meeting?”

          “Undoubtedly,” he confirms. “But not for some time yet.  I told them we were having our own.”

          “Ah, I see,” Theseus lies.  He has no idea what’s going on but at this point that’s par for the course. “Anything new?  I don’t suppose he’s dropped off a quick note explaining everything and we can all go home now?”

          The humor fades from Albus’ expression quickly.  Theseus apologizes and sits up, righting his clothing as he does.  Together, they each finish off a glass of the firewhiskey in silence until another knock summons them to what turns out to be the final meeting of the day.  When he stumbles home, exhausted and numb, it’s to a plate of food, covered and warm, waiting for him on the table. It’s delicious. He manages to whisper that into Leta’s ear when he curls around her and falls asleep.

  


* * *

 

 

          This process continues for the next several months, it becomes even more confusing when they realize that Grindelwald’s usual activities have abruptly halted since the first delivery.  By the time to 15th wizard shows up in the middle of the Ministry, the meetings and late nights have gotten a bit old hat for Theseus. But the situation itself is all consuming. None of this makes any sense and Theseus has always had a fondness for puzzles.  A puzzle this big? It’s become something of an obsession. He once spent three straight hours going over his one 45 second encounter with the man in a pensieve, reading his every facial expression, memorizing the tone of his voice, his body language. Nothing at all gives anything away as to why it would be Theseus’ name scrawled on these notes instead of Travers’ or even Albus’ himself.

          He realizes, distantly, that he’s becoming too wrapped up in all of this but it isn’t until the third day in a row of sleeping on his office sofa and having his assistant grab him a change of clothes that he understands that outside of flirting in the halls, he hasn’t seen Leta in any sort of romantic capacity in nearly three weeks.  Adjusting his tie, he sends a note with his secretary inviting her out to lunch and promises himself he’ll start to do so every day to make up for his horrible behavior.

          An hour later, he’s going over the evidence against the lastest delivery when a knock signifies Albus’ arrival.  Thankfully term had ended a month ago elsewise Theseus was sure the extra workload being the Ministry’s consultant would have exhausted him straight into St. Mungo’s.  It has been nice, he admits to himself as he welcomes the man to his usual chair. It’s been nearly two years since he’d last spoken at length with the man across from him and getting to do so as often as he has been is fantastic and he comes to realize that he’s missed his old friend and teacher.  When, after a moment of small talk, Theseus brings this up to him, he’s happy to learn the sentiment is returned.

          “The situation isn’t the best but,” Theseus shrugs and hands him the file for him to look over as is their usual routine. “It’s definitely better than trying to sift through all of this on my own and I appreciate that you’re here doing this when you could be off getting normal hours of sleep or reading or whatever it is that you do.”

          “Trust me, Theseus,” Albus starts, amused and looking at him instead of the file he’s supposed to be flipping through. “I most definitely would love to be sleeping, reading, or whatever it is that I do, but the situation definitely piques my interest.”

          “Yes,” Theseus recalls absently as he flips through his notes. “You and Grindelwald were close. I imagine you must be even more curious than I am and I admit to becoming a little obsessed with knowing the answer.”

          “It is,” Albus pauses here and Theseus looks up to find him staring intently at some space in front of the papers before him. “Odd that he chose to send it to you instead of someone else but I’m sure the answer will become clear soon enough.  I know we’ve spoken about this at length but, are you really sure you never met him outside that one incident?”

          “Just the once!” Theseus sighs and lays his notes back on the table before them and falls back against his chair.  “It wasn’t even anything memorable, I’ve looked at it again- hundreds of times by now- and he barely even glances at me.  Maybe someone else is in charge of dropping them off and they know of me somehow?”

          “No,” Albus denies it just as he always has. “It’s his handwriting and it’s not his usual handwriting.”  

          Well, that bit is new.

          “What do you mean,” Theseus asks leaning forward now.  Albus has dropped all pretense of looking over the evidence.  They were hardly the only ones looking it over anyway. “How is it different?”

          “It’s more elaborate. The handwriting he’d use for official documents, or anything important where he wanted to show off.  So,” Albus’ gaze is locked with his and Theseus begins to feel like they’re having an entirely different conversation from the one he thought they were having. “It may not have for very long but when you met him you must have made an impression. Memorable indeed.”

          “Albus,” Theseus starts, not knowing how to respond to that before abruptly deciding to file it away and deal with it later. “Why are you willing to consult for us but not willing to fight him?  I thought maybe it was sentiment that was stopping you but you are still making moves against him just not directly.” Theseus realizes a half second too late that his words were more accusatory than he’d intended. “I don’t mean-”

          “No, it’s quite alright.”  Albus leans forward and sets the file full of evidence on the table between them and seems to stare off into space for a moment.  Theseus forces himself to remain still and wait patiently even though he’s dying to tap his feet and jump forward to redirect the conversation. “You’re right.  I am still moving against him by doing this and you’re also right when you said it’s sentimentality, that is part of it. The Gellert that I knew is- was different from how you and the others see him.  We were very close that is true, and so while I do want him to be stopped there is a part of me that just keeps thinking ‘but what if I can just get him to change his mind?’ Which is foolish of course, but..”

          “What’s the other part,” Theseus asks quietly.  He’s stunned at the fact that he’s finally getting some real answers to the questions he and the Ministry have always asked.  He doesn’t want to push too far but at the same time he is now very much wrapped up in this and he has to know. “Other than the sentimentality, I mean.”

          Albus looks at him for a long moment and Theseus checks himself to make sure his occlumency shields are up and strong because it feels like he is boring into him with his eyes.  Theseus isn’t so sure now if he really wants the answer because if it’s serious enough for this then maybe he should’ve warded his office. Theseus shifts uncomfortably when the moment drags on for slightly too long and Albus finally looks away.

          “Its,” Albus pauses again as if fighting with himself before sighing. “It’s not something that the Ministry-”

          “I won’t say anything unless it puts someone in danger,” Theseus says quickly.  Albus glances at him again and this time the expression is soft and fond and Theseus almost kicks himself.  He feels like he’s back to jumping through hoops trying to win Albus’ approval. Just like he was right out of Hogwarts before he joined the war effort.  

          Where’s your dignity now, War Hero?

          “I know you won’t.” The certainty in this should make him happy, but all Theseus feels is the uncomfortable tension in his gut and he has to fight the urge to squirm.

          “Theseus,” Albus says, gaining his attention again easily. “Gellert and I, years ago, we made a promise to each other.  To never fight each other.”

          That seemed quite a bit more towards sentiment.  For both wizards to hold themselves to an old promise between friends, while honorable, was quite a bit more foolish than he thought they would be.  Especially considering both of their positions now all these years later.

          “We sealed that promise,” Albus explained slowly, each word weighed carefully before leaving him and always, always while looking Theseus dead in the eye, reading his every reaction to each word. “We sealed it with a blood pact.”

          It’s like he can feel the blood draining from his face at this realization.  Albus Dumbledore couldn’t help them. One of the most powerful wizards in existence and they couldn’t get his help.  They were essentially stuck to flinging stones and pebbles like muggle children, annoying but harmless against a wizard of Grindelwald’s caliber.  He had outmaneuvered them before they even realized there was a cause to.

          “Why,” Theseus whispered, still stunned but mind whirling trying to find any possible way out of this. “Why would you agree to something so… he could’ve turned around and done anything and you’d be unable to… You’re the only real hope we have to- why would you ever-”

          Theseus was aware that he was slipping into a panic attack, breathing coming slightly too fast, his vision going dark around the edges but before he could fully even recognize that thought Albus was there.  Suddenly kneeling in front of him with both his hands gripping Theseus’ own, his magic pushing through his skin like a cooling balm banishing the anxiety instantly. Theseus wondered if maybe he should just shut up so Albus would stop saying things that would put Theseus in a very horrible position for knowing them.  At the same time, could he really force himself to move on and not get the answers to these questions now that, for some reason, Albus was finally answering them?

          “Because,” Albus’ face was sad now and even more careful than before, as if confessing to a crime that would land him a death sentence.  “I was quite in love with him at the time.”

          Oh.  

          Still a crime.  Not quite a death sentence.  

          Theseus wasn’t sure how to act or what to say to something like that.  They were so close, everyone in the Ministry knew that, but no one expected this.  Merlin, all it would take is one raised voice and they’d throw him in prison to await trial.  Even Theseus could be imprisoned for a time just for knowing about it and not telling anyone.  Albus pulls his hands away. Theseus grabs them quickly in his own again.

          “I understand.” He didn’t, not really, not with Grindelwald.  But, if Albus had ever asked him for something like that… Fresh out of Hogwarts and eager to please, Theseus would’ve been hard pressed not to give it to him. “It’s okay. I won’t say anything.  No one else has to know. We’ll figure it out.”

          Albus was looking at him as if he was seeing him for the first time and Theseus felt like the room was suddenly far too small.  Their hands were clasped together firmly and Theseus felt it, the moment when Albus believed him and slowly began to curl his fingers around his.  It felt like the air was punched from his chest.

          “I promise.” He said uselessly.  There was a loud knock on the door and suddenly they were jerking apart as Leta poked her head inside her expectant smile fading slightly.  Theseus felt flushed and out of breath as though he’d just run a mile and he had to fight to compose himself. “Leta! Here for lunch?”

          “Yes,” she drew the word out slowly until it became a question. “If you’re still free to go?”

          “Of course, I am!” Theseus very carefully didn’t look at Albus as he gathered his things and set them again on his desk.  By the time he turned around Albus was at the door making small talk with a reserved Leta and his secretary. When he joined them he got a polite farewell and lingering handshake that made Theseus immediately shove that hand in his jacket pocket afterwards.

          “Shall we go,” Leta asked, tearing his gaze away from Albus’ back as it faded from view.

          “Yes,” Theseus agreed forcing a bright smile to his face as he took her arm and escorted her down the hall.

 

* * *

  
  
  
          He isn’t at all surprised to find another present left for him when he gets back from lunch.  He calls them presents because after his conversation with Albus this morning he’s come to realize that it’s exactly what they are.  Figuring out what Grindelwald’s goal is in leaving them is another thing entirely.

          This present though, is different.  It’s not a person. Just an envelope with his name on it in the same elaborate cursive script as the others.  The other difference is that it’s charmed to only open to him. Up to this point it seems as though his participation has been assumed, now however, it seems to be required.  This big change means that he is ambushed the moment he returns from lunch with Leta and dragged to the conference room for yet another meeting, this time with the envelope sitting innocently in the middle of the table.

          It isn’t until the minister advises Theseus to open it that he realizes he hasn’t been paying attention to a single word of the meeting thus far. He was too busy tracing the delicate and elaborate curves of the lines with his eyes compulsively. As soon as he touched the envelope he felt it, Grindelwald’s magic sliding over his hands like a caress. He fought off the shiver easily enough but when his eyes raised he felt it, Albus’ eyes trailing over his skin like he could see the path it took.  Theseus swallows and peels the envelope open and pulls the letter from it. The writing, though smaller, is just as elaborate here. The message itself makes him pause, in the end, he reads it five times to be sure of it’s contents before reading it aloud.

          “Theseus,  I’m very pleased that you’ve gotten my messages.  It seems, for the moment, that we are on the same side.  There are places I cannot be and things I cannot do. For that I needed two of the bravest and strongest men I know of.  Albus’ involvement is guaranteed already by my own and so all that remained was ensuring yours. I do apologize for the suddenness of my messages as I know it must have been quite surprising.  

          “There is another wizard, one more powerful and dark than you can imagine. Dark enough that I am sure the lives of every person on this planet hangs in turmoil.  I am doing all I can to halt him but his supporters are everywhere and time is of the essence. Enclosed you’ll find the name of another of his supporters. I have been unable to gather much on my own without alerting him and thus giving him enough time to destroy the evidence, but what I have found is enough, I think, for you to open your own investigations. I will contact you again soon.  Do give the Ministry, and Albus of course, my regards. Gellert Grindelwald.”

          The uproar that this evokes is near deafening.  Theseus’ eyes lock with Albus’ and they are the only two who sit calmly in silence.  They don’t break eye contact until finally the minister calls the room to silence. The name is pulled from the envelope and there it is, Septimus Malfoy. The room delves into chaos once more. Theseus ignores it and goes through the evidence Grindelwald has managed to get thus far with a fine-toothed comb.  After he finishes looking at each page he passes it across the table to Albus who silently takes it and looks it over before returning it to the middle of the table.

          It’ll be a long night, Theseus realizes.  He’ll have to cancel dinner again.

 


	3. For The Greater Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus meets with Gellert, things go sideways from there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so very very very very very much to the Thelbus Discord GC for telling me to update after I lost motivation and also to IhaveAbadfeelingAboutThis for beta-ing this for me. I greatly appreciate you.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter and please let me know what you think about it in the comments below! :)

 

_**Albus** _

 

          When Albus first receives the message he’s sure he’s just imagining it from lack of sleep.  Then when he washes his face and the message remains he’s sure that this is a trap of some sort.  But still he grabs his coat and his hat and heads out. After all, one shouldn’t keep a man like Gellert waiting.  The message had been simple, just a casual ‘Breakfast?’ written on a napkin of his favorite cafe just outside Godric’s Hollow.

          They’d never gone there together, he’d only discovered it after Gellert was no longer an active part of his life. However, he knew he shouldn’t be surprised that Gellert knew of it and so a part of him couldn’t help being simultaneously fond, hopeful, and very angry. After everything that happened, all the murders and unrest- after Arianna-  Gellert was going to pretend that nothing had changed when everything had. Well, almost everything, his heart was still pounding in his chest and a part of him hoped this would be it.

          The apology, the pledge to do better, the declaration of his continued affections.  But that only made him even angrier. They couldn’t fight each other. That much was true.  But there was a lot of leeway in that arrangement and Albus had no problems taking advantage of every bit of it.  As much as Gellert seemed sincere in his letter to Theseus there was much that didn’t make any sense and he knew that he couldn’t afford to trust Gellert’s intentions based on his word alone.  He wasn’t nearly so naive anymore.

          The cafe is as bustling as ever, but the moment his eyes settle on the familiar figure of Gellert Grindelwald, time seems to slow, just as it always used to do.  Tables are lined up underneath the overhang of the shop, each filled with chatting patrons. Wind chimes are twinkling merrily to the tune of accompanying bird song, and the cool summer air is playing with the ends of Gellert’s hair.  It is picturesque. Even down to the soft expression on Gellert’s face as he sits staring up at Albus from across the street.

          What he wouldn’t give to wipe that smile right off his face, to run his fingers on his jaw and ask him why he’d done these things, to ask him why he would involve Theseus - wonderful, brave, intelligent Theseus - in these stupid games.  Instead, he takes his seat and orders his usual. They spend the next several moments in silence, each of them allowing their eyes to drink their fill of the other and waiting to see how this meeting would go.

          Will they cordially have breakfast and play the game of old friends catching up after a long absence, or will they snipe at each other through their meal and leave to a more private area to fling harsh words at each other without the need to hold back? Albus can’t be sure which he prefers, and just as he is finally deciding to step forward and seize control over the conversation, suddenly Gellert is speaking. 

          “You look well.”  The ‘old friends’ angle then...

          “And you as well,” his eyes linger on the cut of Gellert’s jaw and slide over his mouth before rising to catch on Gellert’s own in time to see his invitation.  The feeling of sliding through the opening in Gellert’s shields is familiar and just as intimate as he remembered. He gathers himself there and focuses his magic on creating an avatar of himself - an actual physical manifestation rather than just an omnipresent observer.

          He can hear himself carrying on a dutifully boring conversation out loud about nothing, but his true focus is here, in Gellert’s mind.  Albus is sitting across from him on Gellert’s old bed and ignoring the way he was looking up at him with a sort of hesitant affection that made Albus feel, suddenly, rather queasy.

          “I’m not going to pretend that everything I believe has suddenly changed or that I’ve become a better person.  It would be a lie and you wouldn’t believe me anyway.”

          Albus hums in agreement and slides his hand over the comforter taking in the remembered feel of the fabric on his palm. Gellert’s choice of meeting place is an obvious attempt at manipulation, but then they had always flirted like that. For Gellert to be doing it now was...

          “What are you doing,” Albus asks finally.  “Why are you pulling Theseus into the middle of this?  Why are you changing the game so suddenly?”

          “Ah,” a devious smile settles on Gellert’s face and Albus tries to keep his expression even, tries not to swallow nervously. “Theseus Scamander.”  The way he says his name is almost dirty and it sends a shiver down Albus’ spine and for a second Albus remembers the moment on the couch, staring into Theseus’ eyes while he earnestly swore to protect his secrets and help him solve the disaster that has become his life.

          “Well, that’s a rather complicated explanation but I have to start elsewhere first.  I’m just going to assume that you’ve read my letter. The wizard I spoke of...he’s real, Albus.  That’s not a game. You know it’s almost impossible to lie to each other in here. This man is evil. Not just bad or ethically wrong but full out evil. He will drench the world in blood and the war that comes from fighting him leaves entire generations wiped out and his name sends such a fear through all that no one even named him.  He’s real enough that I have put everything else on hold.”

          Albus continues to keep his expression neutral even as he is pulled by Gellert’s words to the memory of the vision he had.  It’s just as horrible as Gellert is describing and in such vivid detail that it couldn’t possibly be anything other but he surest future.  He’s experienced Gellert’s visions before, and while he had been willing to give him the benefit of the doubt before, all doubt is completely banished now.  He watches as witches and wizards fall by the dozens, then hundreds. He watches parents try to shield their children. He watches the torture and death of hundreds of muggle families and just when it’s becoming too much, his eyes burning with tears and horror building a lump in his throat- he sees it. 

          His own death. He lived quite a bit longer than he ever thought he would.  At least there’s that bit of silver lining. But the scene that comes next shocks him. So apparently he wins then. He finds himself staring at the future image of his lover with the same sort of detached sadness and frustration that has been his constant companion for years. But the affection and grief that hits him is still too much and he finds himself clinging to Gellert when it’s over.  He doesn’t even know what to say so he just squeezes him too tight and doesn’t say anything at all. Gellert holds him just as fiercely, running a hand up and down Albus’ back murmuring to him all the while.

          “It’ll be fine.  We can stop it. I know we can.  We can do anything, remember?”

          “But your vision is so clear. Maybe we can’t. Maybe this is it.  Maybe it was always meant to be this way.”

          Gellert pulls back and grips his shoulders harshly.  The expression on his face is a mix of stubbornness, determination, and affection - and dear Merlin, Albus has missed this.  This open vulnerable feeling of connection and belonging that at times feels like it is bonding them together down to each individual speck of matter and magic, until they’re woven together so completely it feels like nothing will ever be able to part them.  Feeling it again now, after so many years curled around himself remembering in the dark is breathtaking, and he has to force himself to take a slow even breath or else lose it all together.

          “We can. We can fix it.  I’ve seen it. It took days of meditation and honestly questionable potions,” he laughed, an attempt to banish the thickness in the air. “Not to mention all the incense, but I found the future where it doesn’t happen. I found a way to stop it.”

          It makes sense suddenly.

          “The ministry,” Albus declares, the pieces suddenly fitting together in ways he’d never really considered before. “That’s why you’re playing nicely with others. Working with the ministry is the only way to stop it.”

          And just as suddenly.

          “Theseus,” it falls from his mouth like he is breathing out prayer, and he watches that bit of information register in Gellert’s eyes even as he curses himself. “That’s why you directed it to Theseus.  He has to be involved.”

          “Yes,” Gellert agrees the devious expression returning to his face. He watches Albus’ face with a desperate sort of scrutiny that makes him do his best to hide his thoughts. “Do you want to see it, Albus? The vision I had of that future.”

          He feels like this is a trap and a gift in one, and he’s not sure how to feel about that or what to say, but he knows he’d never be able to bear it if he didn’t see it now.

          “Show me.”

          The next vision is different. He’s never experienced a vision where he’s actually been inside a future version of Gellert before.  He feels the cotton sheets. The experience is captivating and wonderful, and he’s struck with the rather horrible thought that he hopes this vision is better than the last one.  Being actually in someone’s body experiencing their pain and death would be horrible. But this isn’t that kind of vision. He recognizes him. Even before he makes a sound or turns.  The broad shoulders, muscled back, and tousled hair. He recognizes him just from that. All these months of walking beside or behind him, absently taking in the shape of him, all the times he’s pressed a hand to Theseus’ back or shoulder and felt the muscles there move beneath skin. For a moment there’s a flash of jealousy- they’re together and I’m alone- before it’s completely replaced by this wanton greedy urge, mine.

          They’re mine.

          He feels Theseus’ skin and tastes him in his mouth and the low moan that slides it’s way from Theseus’ lips damn near reverberates through his entire body. The addition of his future self is the last straw. A bright happy feeling begins to build in his chest. It feels a lot like hope and it utterly terrifies him. He rips himself free of the vision just as Theseus cries out Gellert’s name in a way that he knows he’ll revisit in his dreams for weeks. 

          “Are you sure you don’t want to see the whole thing,” Gellert teases. They’re back in his old bedroom and he’s pressed snuggly against Albus’ back with his arms wrapped around him. “There’s plenty more and I’m sure you’d just love the next part.”

          “Stop,” Albus says sounding completely unconvincing.  His mind is already picturing it. All the ways they could take Theseus apart between them.  He’s heard the rumors about the man’s more promiscuous period during and shortly after the war.  He wonders if they’re true. 

          “Albus,” Gellert whispers against his ear. “Don’t you want him?  Don’t you want to share him with me? The taste of his skin, the sounds he makes, all of it is absolutely exquisite. Let us have him.” 

          “There’s someone else,” Albus said, barely able to cling to his sanity as Gellert’s hands roam up and down his arms slowly kneading the skin. “He’s dating someone else already. Has been for over a year. They’re in love. We can’t just-”

          “And yet,” Gellert interrupts.  His hands gripping Albus’ upper arms cutting off any further excuses. “We must. Even if we didn’t desire him so -” Gellert’s head inclines and his lips brush Albus’ ear with every word. “- it is what I saw, the only difference between the path we were set on and a peaceful future. Besides, he seems happy enough to me. You missed it, at the end.” 

          Albus’ eyes squeezed closed. Merlin, how could he have forgotten this for even a moment.  He’s at the very edge of that line he knows he shouldn’t cross but already he’s picturing it- dancing in a house they share, arguing with Gellert about wine while Theseus watches and laughs, and sharing kisses before a fire. He can’t have that. He’s told himself so many times that he can’t have that. But… 

          “He said he loves us,” Gellert murmurs against Albus’ skin. Albus frowns, his brow creasing. They’re talking about seducing a happily taken man. ‘But is he?’ a dark traitorous part of himself whispers. He hasn’t spent any real time with her in months, and from what he says it’s stilted.

          ‘He confided in you because he trusted you,’ he chastises himself. ‘Not so you can use it against him.’

          But… if he loves us, is it really working against him?

          Albus doesn’t fight it when Gellert turns him in his arms to face him and when his eyes open again they’re determined. “He’s ours, Albus. He’s always been ours. We just didn’t know it before.”

          “Now we do.” Albus affirms hesitantly, torn.

          “Now,” Gellert agrees, sliding a hand into Albus’ hair. “We do.”

          They kiss and it’s like time stops and the world has been set on fire. Albus tells himself it doesn’t matter. This isn’t real. It’s just in their heads. It doesn’t matter.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

          In the real world, they finish their banal conversation and breakfast before they get up to take a walk through the park.  Albus notes that they both seem near giddy with the possibilities, and he is happier than he’s been in years. A part of him feels uneasy about the morally gray area they’re entering, but a larger part of him acknowledges that this is for the greater good, and that they would never force Theseus to make that choice.  In the end, Theseus will be the one who decides.

          “You know they’re not going to just accept you because you’re suddenly being helpful.  They’re already setting up plans to capture you and bring you in.” The answering laugh is expected, and it brings a hastily smothered smile to his own face. “You’ll have to figure out a way to deal with this. Preferably one that doesn’t involve violence.”

          “Yes, yes,” Gellert waves a hand absently but the easy set of his shoulders now seem a bit forced to Albus’ eyes. “I do have a couple of ideas.  I’ll turn over the worst of the worst and stop this greater threat for a pardon and immunity deal. They’ll be against it at first but when they start seeing the kind of people I bring in and uncover the things they typically do then it’ll be easy to persuade from there. Especially, when the news of this new threat hits the papers and the members of the public come spilling forth into the minister’s office demanding action be taken.”

          Albus considered it for a long moment.  It was a sound tactic but seemed to rely on chance far more than Gellert usually allowed. Unless…

          “That was the first part of the vision then.  You could have just shown me that instead.”

          “I could have,” Gellert agreed. They locked eyes and he grinned again. “But where’s the fun in that?”

          “You’re horrible.” It comes out fonder than Albus intended it to.

          “So they tell me.”

          They finish their walk in silence but when Gellert pulls him into a side alley and illusions it to appear empty even as he presses Albus against the brick wall. Albus goes with it easily and falls back against the brick to look at Gellert with a wary sort of coy amusement. He feels like a besotted teenage boy. But it’s far too soon for this, so Albus shifts further into the alley away from Gellert and watches as his former lover easily accepts this new distance without comment.

          “I want to meet him again. To speak with him,” Gellert says, falling against the wall opposite him. “There’s a lot we need to discuss and I’m not sure how much time we have before things become more difficult. How far are they with Septimus?”

          “I think it best I speak with him first. He’ll react better if he hears all of this from me. I’ll go over everything with him. Well, other than,” Albus trails off and cocks his head to the side suggestively before continuing. “The more personal matters.  That I think we should keep to ourselves for the time being. As far as Septimus, everyone is in a right panic at the moment. Septimus is a high ranking official. We were lucky as it was that he wasn’t in that meeting when the letter was read.”

          “He must be dealt with soon before he succeeds in displacing the minister.  Either by their way or mine. Hopefully, bureaucracy will be sufficient but if not...” Gellert meets meets Albus’ eyes, his own eyes filled with that old stubbornness.  “I am ready to take care of matters. I know I can rely on you to convey the urgency, Albus.”

          Albus sighs, nodding.  The situation is dire and the ministry is being too slow.  He understands their hesitancy, of course, as he was one of the people advocating for the paranoia, but now that he knows more about the situation all he can see is the wasted time of the past several months. Even though they’ve arrested many different witches and wizards and stopped quite a few trades of truly dark and horrible artefacts, and even of enslaved muggles, he knows the future remains the same. He only hopes that Theseus will listen to him, and that together they can convince the others.

          “Yes,” Albus agrees. “I’ll talk with him as soon as I get back.  I’ll see about setting up a meeting as well. We need to create a plan and I’m sure you’re anxious to see him in the flesh.”

          “Ah,” Gellert says, suddenly looking quite pleased with himself. “I’ve been to see him already. Even more beautiful than I remembered.  But it would be nice to not have to do so from quite so far away.”

          “Gellert,” Albus scolds, “That’s stalking. Do contain yourself.”

          “I just wanted to see if I was remembering him correctly,” Gellert replies, innocently.  Albus tries not to find it quite so charming.

  
  


* * *

 

 

 

          Finding Theseus is rather easy. Getting him to stop long enough to have a private conversation is another thing entirely. He is constantly being pulled in several different directions at the whims of his superiors and in the end, Albus finds he is forced to schedule a private meeting in his office in order to get some time alone with him. 

          “Albus,” Theseus begins, sounding quite worn from his slouched position at his desk. “I’m sorry I’ve been so unavailable. Things have gotten a bit… hectic since the revelation of Septimus Malfoy’s name.” 

          Albus waves him off as he sat before him. “I completely understand.” He hesitates for the barest of moments before warding and silencing Theseus’ office, as he had done surreptitiously for all their previous talks. This time he makes sure it is just overt enough to be noticed, and he watches in pleasure as Theseus’s posture remains the same but his eyes became more alert. “I’m glad we’re able to speak.  I’ve discovered something that I want to discuss with you privately.” 

          “What’s happened?” Theseus asks.  It is obvious he’s concerned, but also that he believes it to be about Albus’ confession earlier in the week.  ‘He isn’t exactly wrong,’ Albus thinks. 

          “I received a message from Grindelwald, and subsequently met with him.” 

          There’s a long heady pause, and Albus is unsure if it’s because the news is so unexpected, or if Theseus is angry.  He waits Theseus out, patient, letting the auror piece together his words. 

          “Okay,” Theseus says finally, sounding as though he was saying it more to himself than for Albus’ benefit. “I’m assuming everything was above board considering the fact that you’re here but you do realize how horribly that could’ve gone don’t you?  Just because he can’t fight you doesn’t mean he couldn’t have led you into a trap.”

          “You’re right of course,“ Albus says, smiling disarmingly at Theseus to smooth things over. “I should have alerted you but I had a very small window to act. I received a message from Gellert inviting me to breakfast at a popular cafe.  When I arrived, he was very forthright about his plans, to the point of allowing me to confirm them with legilimency. I saw his vision of the future. Everything he said in his letter is true. I saw the bloodshed and death for myself, and it was even more horrific than I thought. We need to stop this, Theseus.” 

          “Do you know anything at all about this dark wizard he spoke of? His name, face, family, anything?” Theseus is sitting straighter now, his brow furrowed and eyes determined. 

          Albus tries valiantly to ignore how attractive that is.  This stubborn knight in shining armor determined to save everyone and damn anything that got in his way.  He’s always had a bit of a soft spot for Theseus. Albus has never been shy about admitting that. But it wasn’t until he returned from the war that Albus noticed it turning from friendly admiration to a deeper attraction and fondness. The way Theseus has always trusted him makes Albus’ shoulders straighten with a strange sort of pride, happiness.

          “Nothing,” Albus confirms. “His followers mostly wore masks and his face was distorted beyond anything I’d ever seen before. As though he were more beast than man. I’d have remembered seeing a face like that. He wouldn’t be able to walk around openly without heavy use of spells or potions to disguise himself. Gellert and I both have people watching for large purchases of necessary potions or ingredients. It’s the most we can do on that angle for now. From what I saw, this is far enough into the future to make the lot of us old men, but not so far that it escapes us entirely.” 

          Here Albus pauses, unsure of how much to reveal but Theseus’ eyes are sharp and he’s found out before he could maneuver the conversation away.

          “He has a direct hand in my death, as well as the death of several ministry officials including that time’s Minister of Magic. Yet, we know nothing of him. Thankfully, his followers are not so protected. Gellert and I were able to identify a few dozen families that seemed to have been a part of this movement from its beginning and we’ll do our best to help the Ministry put them away before anything comes to fruition. But there’s a catch.”

          “Of course there is,” Theseus agreed, sounding amused but very careful.  “I can’t promise anything, Albus.”

          “He only wants to work with you and I,” Albus starts with the easiest acquisition trying to form his words carefully. “He has looked through multiple futures and only the one where the three of us work together was successful at destroying this potential future before it began.”

          Theseus remains quiet for a long moment, and Albus knows he is considering it carefully. While it’s not something that Theseus could decide on his own, Theseus and Albus approaching the Minister together about this would make it much more likely so he allows Theseus this time to think.  He’s still not quite sure how to convince Theseus on the other condition and he’s not sure he’d be able to even present it to the Minister without at least Theseus on his side. Especially because he knows that Travers and the others will be so very against it.

          “I’m willing to consider weekly or biweekly meetings and I reserve the right to bring backup should the situation warrant it,” Theseus finally says, and Albus allows himself to relax a little. A valid compromise. “What else? There has to be more, he wouldn’t just give us these witches and wizards for no reason. Regardless of what his followers believe, he’s hardly altruistic.”

          “You’re right,” Albus acknowledges with approving tilt of his head. “This next thing you don’t have authority to promise him but I would need your help to present it to the minister.” 

          Theseus takes a long slow breath and turns his head to stare into the distance for a moment his jaw clenching.  Albus absently traces his jawline with his eyes even as he brings up and discards several different proposals before finally just settling with the bare truth. 

          “He wants a pardon for his past deeds and immunity for any crimes he commits in service to ridding the world of this wizard and his followers,” Albus says.  “And frankly, while he’s still likely to go after this wizard on his own, it would be best to have him close enough to keep an eye on rather than have him off who knows where doing whatever he pleases unchecked.”

          Albus watches as Theseus puts his head in his hands with a sigh.  He waits for a moment but Theseus doesn’t say anything, so he leans forward and fixes a bright but wry smile to his face, preparing to try again to convince him. He is caught off guard by Theseus glancing up at him through his fingers. He looks exhausted suddenly. The smile falls from Albus’ face to be replaced with a concerned frown.

          “Theseus,” Albus starts. 

          “You’re right in the sense that we should keep our eyes on him and this would be the best way to do it.  But I don’t agree with pardoning him for everything he’s done. Gellert Grindelwald and his followers have murdered people, destroyed property, ruined lives, and terrify the populace with their every move.  To just wave it all away because he decides that he’s temporarily on our side… I don’t think I can go along with that, Albus.”

          Albus has to agree with him, honestly. There’s quite a bit more that Gellert has to make up for that can’t be resolved with a non-apology and a string of good deeds. He knows this, even despite their reunion, the beginning resurgence of emotion, and the happy future he saw. He knows this. But he also knows that the amount of loss, death, and terror that has been caused by Gellert and his people is absolutely nothing compared to the pure unadulterated horror that will be perpetrated by this new wizard.

          Is Gellert an innocent?  No. Is he even a good man?  Probably not. Almost definitely not, in fact.  But he isn’t evil either. Gellert Grindelwald, with all his flaws and crimes, is still far beyond a better man than this new monster they are facing.  Albus knows this in his bones - both from the intrinsic knowledge of Gellert that he’s held for years, and from Gellert’s vision of the future. In the end, when given the opportunity to help this wizard and potentially live, Gellert chose to do the right thing and die. 

          But Theseus doesn’t know that.  Theseus hadn’t seen those things and despite this bond they share he had already known that Theseus wouldn’t trust Gellert enough to view these things in his mind directly - which would be the only way he’d believe it completely. At least, not yet. Albus swallows back his nerves and decides to test it, the theory that Theseus will be theirs. There was a moment on the couch where he thought he wasn’t alone. It’s rather morally suspect to use that to his advantage now but considering the end goal, he believes his means are justified, if a little selfish.

          He reaches out and grips Theseus’ shoulder with one hand and leans in slightly over the desk to catch the man’s eyes with his own.  He allows the silence to linger just enough for the air to become heavy with promise, Theseus’ eyes darken, and Albus can feel his heart jump excitedly in his chest.  Good.

          “So,” he says carefully. “What if we make him work for it?  Not only this wizard and his followers, but what about Gellert’s own? He won’t give them up easily, but if we work together we’ll be able to completely dismantle not only this future wizard’s army, but Gellert’s as well. Without his followers, he isn’t nearly so dangerous, especially if word gets out that he’s the reason his own followers were imprisoned. Gellert may have given the orders to those people but they were the ones who chose to carry out those crimes. They’re just as guilty, if not more so. So let’s use him to put them away and stop any further crimes. Let him pay off his debts to society through the prevention of more loss of life.”

          He’s speaking as earnestly as he can, allowing the passion in his words to ring clear. Hoping to persuade Theseus while his guard is down, but also to get himself just that one step closer to the future he saw. The future he can see now in the way Theseus’ eyes are dilated, the way his breath comes just slightly faster, the way the end of Theseus’ tongue comes out to run along the seam of his mouth. Theseus leans in just a little closer and Albus’ breath halts in his throat until Theseus stands, dislodging the hand from his shoulder and puts his back to Albus as he crosses the room to the door.  Albus stands but doesn’t go to join him, unsure of his welcome, not wanting to push.

          “I’ll speak to the heads of a few departments.  They’re very pragmatic, if I pitch it to them the right way they’ll be willing to help convince the Minister. If I speak to them in a certain order, they’ll even be the ones to bring it up to him. But we cannot guarantee him a pardon, nor immunity, not based on things you say you saw.”  Here Theseus raises a hand to stop his protest. 

          “I believe you, Albus.  Several members of the ministry will, in fact. But several more only see a man whose judgment may be impaired by his previous attachment to the criminal who is responsible for actual recorded deaths instead of a group of people actively trying to stop a supposed maybe-criminal with future potential deaths. They work in absolutes. In evidence and hard facts. We need to be careful about how we go about this, because if we do it wrong, the truth about the bloodpact, everything, it’ll all come out and then we’ll be too worried about how to keep ourselves out of prison to do anything about keeping Grindelwald out of it.” 

          Albus relaxes, noticing the way Theseus keeps saying ‘we’ and knowing he’s won as much as he can for now. 

          “Very well,” he agrees. “I’ll follow your lead in this, Theseus.  Tell me what you need me to do.” 

          The next three hours are spent going over every variation, every what-if they can think of.  The next two weeks are spent having casual hypothetical conversations with the right people at the right times. It takes almost a month before the next meeting, when  Grindelwald’s possible pardon and immunity is brought up by a stern looking woman with wisps of gray around her temples and box shaped frames that wrap themselves around absurdly thick lenses.  The argument that breaks out then is the loudest yet and results in Travers breaking his teacup and saucer by slamming them into the table as he emphatically voices his objections. The minister turns to Albus for his recommendation, and Theseus tells him later that he did a remarkably good job at looking like he’d never considered it a possibility before.

          In the end, it’s as simple as leading the conversation in such a way that it’s the Minister himself who voices the conditions that Albus and Theseus had agreed upon in that initial three hour meeting. It’s nearly two more weeks before the signed document is presented and only an hour to convince the Minister that it would be best if Theseus and himself were the only ones to have direct access to Grindelwald, considering the ongoing investigation of one of the Ministry’s own high ranking officials.

          Theseus voices the fact that it almost felt like cheating to manipulate them all in such a way.  Albus wonders if the auror realizes just how skilled he is that he was able to do it at all, but he doesn’t think so. Even with Albus’ help, this could’ve turned out quite differently if not for Theseus’ observations and quick thinking. Regardless of his seemingly lesser magical abilities when compared to Gellert and himself, Albus begins to think that they may be in for quite an adventure when it comes to trying to outmatch Theseus in a game of wits.  It’s relatively hard now, but once Theseus begins to know them in that deep intimate way that Gellert and Albus have learned each other, Albus is unsure of who will win. 

          He tries very hard to not let the prospect excite him. It doesn’t work.

          “Only one thing left to do,” Albus says as they both stare down at the document sitting innocently on Theseus’ desk.

          “We go see Grindelwald.”  Theseus completes with a grim sort of finality.

          Indeed, Albus thinks, allowing himself a moment to gaze at the younger man while he’s distracted.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The meeting does not go how Theseus expected it to.   
> The meeting goes almost exactly how Gellert expected it too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always to IHaveABadFeelingAboutThis for beta-ing this for me. You are a wonderful human and I appreciate you going through everything with me at bufu o'clock to try to get this ready to be posted this morning! This chapter was a pain to write but you helped me push through! 
> 
> I hope we managed to make it enjoyable for everyone!
> 
> Also... I did some things with Gellert this chapter... lemme know if you spot them. I think they're cool~

 

**_Theseus_ **

 

          He had to be honest.  He felt a bit cheated.  After all the years of trying and failing to track him down, in the end, Albus just led them to a small abandoned home and knocked on the door. When it opened, Gellert Grindelwald was standing there all smiles as if they were old friends popping over for tea.  He was… shorter than he expected. It caught him off guard for a moment that he was taller than this man. He even had to tilt his chin towards his chest a bit to be able to look him in the eye without staring down his nose at him. This great and horrible man who had done so much and was so powerful and he was short.

          On top of that, he was dressed casually, a pair of slacks and a grey-green button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbow leaving his forearms bare to Theseus’ eyes.  He honestly looked like a normal man who had just stepped out of the house to run an errand. The completely anti-climactic atmosphere had him staring at him with a furrowed brow until Albus repeated the introductions with a rather pointed tone of voice.

          “I’d say it’s a pleasure to meet you but I’d rather us not start off lying to each other if that’s alright with you.”

          He could practically feel annoyed huff that he was sure Albus had just barely held back.  He couldn’t find it within himself to care. Right in front of him was the man who was responsible for so much death, destruction, and hatred but there was nothing he could do to him.  More than that, he had worked his ass off to make absolutely sure there was nothing he or anyone else would be able to do to him. He understood the necessity and still agreed with this plan but he wasn’t going to come into these meetings pretending that all was well that ended well.  Especially since the end wasn’t even in sight.

          “Cheeky,” Grindelwald murmured.  The corners of his mouth were pinched together but he sounded oddly pleased. “Albus, lovely to see you.”

          Albus murmured his own greeting, his eyes shifting between the two of them expectantly and Theseus realized he was standing in the doorway glowering at the older man.  He sighed and stepped in past him, doing his best to act as though putting his back to the man didn’t bother him.

          “We brought the document proving your immunity and pardon.  We have the original of course but it’s a magical duplicate of it for your records.”  

          “Of course,” Grindelwald soothed behind him.

          Theseus ignored the man and set the folder containing the official decree on the table in the home’s dining room. Grindelwald and Albus had followed him in and were standing side-by-side, both eyeing him as though he was some interesting puzzle for them to figure out.  He kept his tone even and his face blank.

          “So, tell me what you know.  Albus has gone over what he can remember from your vision.  Have you-”

          “Now, hold on,” Grindelwald smiled and drug each word out as he slowly approached with both hands held out at his sides palms up.  As if was trying to not appear to be dangerous. Theseus wondered if he honestly thought that would work. “We don’t have to jump right into it, do we? After all,  we’ve never really gotten to know one another. I think we should since we’re going to be working with each other.”

          Theseus couldn’t stop himself from replying, “I think I know just about all I’d want to about you, actually.”

          “Rude,” Grindelwald murmured, sounding pleased again as he picked up the document and looked it over briefly before he tucked it away out of sight..

          “Theseus,” Albus chastised.

          “My most sincere apologies, Mister Grindelwald, if I have offended you,” Theseus drolled, unrepentantly.

          “Not at all,” the man laughed, his eyes piercing into his own suddenly with a seriousness that belied his jovial tone. “To be honest, I rather enjoy you this way.  Hasn’t Albus told you that I’m rather enthralled by passionate young men? Please, do go on.”

          Theseus froze for a moment.  Was he…?

          “Gellert,” Albus chastised.

          “Albus,” Grindelwald returned with a bright, teasing grin.  

          Albus sighed.

          “Have you had any other visions or gotten any additional information since you spoke with Albus?”  Theseus did his best to ignore the strange tension in the room and made sure to keep his hands in plain sight rather than tucked in his coat pockets.  He saw Grindelwald acknowledge the decision with a quick glance down to them before he seemed to disregard Theseus entirely.  

          “Albus, are you busy this evening?” 

          Albus’ brow furrowed for a moment and his eyes were wary.  He didn’t respond for a moment and Theseus wondered if maybe he wouldn’t respond at all before he finally frowned and said, “not currently.”

          “Fantastic, we should have dinner.  I know a great restaurant in Paris. The wine is excellent.”

          “Gellert,” Albus sighed, glancing at him with a frown as though he expected him to speak up. Theseus wondered if his discomfort at the idea was that plain or if Albus was the one feeling uncomfortable.  What was the protocol for watching a friend’s- ex? Were they exes?- ask him out on a date during a covert meeting about saving the world? “Can we please stay on topic?”

  
          “I am on topic,” Grindelwald returned easily, his eyes coming back to lock on Theseus’ own again. “I’m meeting a friend there for dinner.  He has news for me. Or should, in any case.”

          “It’s a meeting?  Where is-” Theseus was cut off with a repeated tsk tsk from the man that had his teeth grinding together.

          “No, not you.  While I find that adorable little wrinkle between your brows to be just as gorgeous as the rest of you, it does rather scream ‘auror’ to anyone who sees it.  No, you should go out, have a few drinks, relax. Albus knows the man too, and it shouldn’t be terribly surprising for him to be seen there with me.”

          Theseus was very proud of himself when he managed to keep from shifting uncomfortably but he couldn’t help but glance over the man’s shoulder to catch Albus’ eyes.  They stared at each other for a long moment and it felt like he should say something, anything, to reassure the man but he couldn’t figure out what he should say or even why he should be reassuring him at all.  But they had stared for a bit too long and the tension in the room grew thick.

          “Oh,” Grindelwald said with a rather mischievous smile.  “What’s this?”

          “Nothing.” Theseus says abruptly before turning his back and rounding the table to check out the window.  Not out of any real security concern but more for something to do to buy himself a moment to think. “I think Albus going with you would be a great idea.  If you’re alright with it, of course, Albus.”

          “Yes,” Albus agreed finally.  “I’ll of course report to you first thing-”

          “-In the morning.  We’ll go over it tomorrow in my office.”  Where it’s safer, he thought to himself absently.

          “We’ll do our best to impress you then, Mister Scamander.”  

          Theseus’ brows furrowed again and he turned to see that the man had approached him again still just far enough away to be socially acceptable but not enough to make him comfortable.  The man’s eyes were dark and he was staring intently at Theseus, eyes roaming slowly over his face, almost appraisingly. He was playing games. Theseus felt his teeth clench and then an odd feeling in his gut as he watched the man’s eyes trace along the now exaggerated line of his jaw.

          “Gellert,” Albus chastised again but this time with a sterner tone of voice.  Detention voice, Theseus noted absently. It made Grindelwald glance back at him over his shoulder and Theseus forced himself to relax against the windowsill.

          “Alright,” Grindelwald soothed again, his eyes on his former- current?- lover. “But honestly Albus, you didn’t expect me to control myself did you?”  

          A long rather pointed silence and the now pardoned man sighed acquiescing.  The way they were acting was so confusing. This relationship didn’t feel finished.  It didn’t feel done. Were they getting back together? Were they already? Albus had said they’d had brunch.  Was that a date?

           “We should figure out a way to communicate quickly over long distances.  Something secure but easily accessible in an emergency.” Grindelwald is speaking with a strange deliberate tone of voice that has Albus’ head cocking just slightly to the side a small smile growing.  

          “You’re talking about the parchment,” his former professor asks an undertone of joy coating his words.  Grindelwald hums in agreement, a light in his eyes that makes Theseus’ gut twist uncomfortably again. 

          “What do you mean,” he finds himself asking curiously.

          “When we were younger we had this scrap of parchment that we’d write to each other on.  We came up with a charm and spelled it so that when we ripped it in half…” Grindelwald trailed off with a smile.

          “Anything written on one half would show up on the other.  It would either fade over time or as soon as it was cleared by the owner of that particular side of the parchment,” Albus finished, his own smile finally forming.

          “That’s,” Theseus paused, thinking on the applications of such a thing. “Brilliant.”

          “Thank you,” they replied in unison before glancing at each other in exaggerated shock.  Theseus absently tuned them out as they argued which of them exactly had ‘really’ created the spell.  

          It probably wouldn’t work quite as well for their needs if it was a bit of parchment.  Some of these messages could be long and if things got derailed as apparently they often did with these two, then conversations could run on for pages before it was over.  No, it was best to see if it could be modified into a journal of some sort. Then they could tear a page out and keep it on them for the truly dire emergencies but have the journal to have lengthy discussions. Maybe their spell was some strange hybrid of the protean and gemino charms?  It wouldn’t be too hard then to use it on a set of journals instead.

          “We’ve lost him, Albus.”  Theseus heard Gellert say wryly, snapping him back to attention.  

          “No, sorry,” he shook his head and ran his tongue over his bottom lip only partly paying attention to the odd expressions on the two men’s faces. “I was just thinking that it’d be better to use a journal or something if possible.  I’m not too sure about the specifics of your spell but-”

          “Ah, he’s tall, gorgeous, _and_ intelligent,” Gellert crooned. “Fantastic.”

          Theseus was thrown for a moment from his train of thought and stared at him incredulously for a moment.  The other man seemed unfazed by his own words, seemingly enjoying flaunting his illegal behavior in front of the head auror.

          “Gellert,” Albus chastised yet again, sounding fond but sort of harried.

          “No,” Theseus waved Albus off, eyes locked on Gellert’s with an unwavering focus, taking in the darker flecks of color in the blond man’s otherwise light eyes. "It's fine, Albus. If flirting with me is what it will take for him to cooperate, then I can live with it. I'm just here to get the job done. Perhaps he'd like to flirt with the wall while he's at it. I imagine the effects would be similar."

          Theseus watched with carefully suppressed amusement as Gellert’s shoulders straightened with indignation and Albus turned his head away to carefully hide a grin. He seemed to have miscalculated however.  A coy and determined expression appeared on Gellert’s face, and the older man slid even further into Theseus’ space. Theseus made sure to remain where he was, and to meet the man’s eyes evenly.  

          He was not quite expecting a hand to brush along his jawline and then leave soft warm trails down his neck over his adams apple until two of the man’s fingers finally came to rest pointedly on the dip just above Theseus’ collarbone. Checking his heartbeat? Theseus was unsure, but he did his best to steady it just in case.

          Slow, steady breaths.  Boring. This is boring, he told himself.  He was not quite sure if it was working or not.  He felt like it was, but he couldn’t be certain. The skin along his jaw and neck felt alarmingly warm and he had to work to keep his breath even but he thought the other man couldn’t tell, even with how very, very close he was.  

          ‘Merlin, this man is attractive.’  The thought slipped from him by accident but once he’d  thought it he couldn’t unthink it. He stopped himself from allowing his eyes to roam and instead forced them to watch the way the man’s eyes darkened as they trailed over his mouth before rising to lock on his own once again.  He felt certain that only a few seconds had passed, but it had felt like longer. When the older man finally spoke, his voice was so quiet that Theseus had to strain to hear it even though, quite suddenly, it was the only sound he heard.

          “Are you so _very_ unaffected then, Mr. Scamander?” It took Theseus a moment to remember what Gellert was talking about, but he felt very proud when his voice came out sounding just as steady as ever.

          “Yes, Mr. Grindelwald.” Theseus forced a polite but disinterested smile to his face, perfected after many obligatory publicity events over the years before, during, and after the war.  “Now, can we get back to work, please?”

          There was a quiet laugh from over Gellert’s shoulder, and Theseus was gratified to see Albus’ hand trying to rub the grin from his mouth.  His eyes were still crinkled at the corners and Theseus absently traced the little wrinkles around them with his eyes. He studiously ignored the way Gellert didn’t pull his hand away, but instead allowed it to slowly fall to his side, so that the man’s fingers might brush down the center of his chest for a moment before finally stepping back, freeing Theseus from concentrating so hard on his breathing.

          Albus turned his gaze to Theseus, his smile becoming more fond and less amused.  A gusty, put upon sigh came from Gellert’s direction, leading Theseus to prepare himself for whatever ridiculous game he was going to play next.

          “If I’m not supposed to be doing it then why is it okay for you,” the man chided, sounding amused. “It’s so very unfair.”

          Theseus felt his face begin to flush and turned to look out the window again as he calmed himself.  He felt a bit like he was playing a rather odd game of chess where the pieces were familiar but he didn’t know all the rules.  Meanwhile, Albus and Gellert seemed to just be dancing around each other with ease. There was a very tense silence and Theseus was surprised when neither Albus or Gellert filled it as they had done each time before.  They couldn’t really be expecting an answer. He turned and saw two sets of eyes locked on him and realized they were.

          “You’re delusional. Honestly, are you physically incapable of being serious for even a moment?  People are going to die by the hundreds of thousands. Do you care,” he asks, aggravated. Gellert stiffens, affronted and for the first time he is truly serious. 

          “I care more than you know, but overthinking things or making rash decisions based on emotional outbursts isn’t going to help us,” the man explains and despite feeling like it’s not his intent to do so, Theseus still feels rather like a child suddenly.  “The future I saw will take time to change and we must be careful but not slow. We need to make deliberate and sure, concise steps, one after the other, and there’s no rule saying that we should run ourselves into the ground or abandon all pursuits of joy and entertainment in the process.”

          Theseus took a breath and acknowledged the man’s point with an understanding tilt of his head before continuing, calmer, "I believe we were talking about using journals instead of a piece of parchment? There's more room, and we can always just tear a page out to take with us for emergencies."

          A strange expression started on Albus’ face that Theseus didn’t want to acknowledge so he gave all his attention to Gellert as he explained his idea.  He could still feel it though, Albus’ gaze on the side of his face felt like it was searing them straight through to the bone.  

          “Ah,” Gellert said with a strained sort of amusement, his eyes trailing between Theseus and Albus. “He’s saying we talk too much, Albus.”

          “Not to worry,” Albus quipped. “I know he really just means you.”

          Theseus allowed himself to relax then at the now familiar banter that particular comment started.  Gellert’s returning shot was more flirtatious than pointed and Theseus stared fixedly at a point over the man’s shoulder.  The two men were flinging barbs back and forth with increasing wit but neither of them had turned to face each other. Instead they just tossed each comment out with a general tilt of their head in the other’s direction. 

          It ended rather abruptly within a minute of it starting when Gellert crossed to a bookshelf and pulled a journal free and in a rather impressive display of wandless nonverbal magic, charmed it.  When he next held it out there were three identical copies. Theseus was a little put out that he wasn’t shown the spell and must have looked it, because Gellert was grinning at him. Theseus was intrigued but didn’t want to have to ask to be shown it so he stayed mute and finally brought up the one topic he had been avoiding thus far.

          “Septimus Malfoy,” he started carefully.  “We’re investigating and we have come up with quite a bit of damning evidence but nothing concrete enough to merit a long-term incarceration.”

          One half of Gellert’s lips turned upwards in a horrible parody of a sincere smile and Theseus felt a sick unease grow in the pit of his stomach. Albus’ reaction, once Theseus allowed himself to glance at him, was a grim determined expression mixed with the same wary unease.  He had known before they came to the meeting, Theseus always made sure to keep Albus updated. No, the worry was for Gellert’s reaction, and Theseus, watching that terrible expression appear on Gellert’s face, was suddenly quite sure it was warranted. 

          “Gellert,” Albus said slowly. “Let me reach out to some-”

          “No,” Gellert said simply, abruptly halting Albus mid-sentence. “No, let’s give our Theseus one more chance.”

          Theseus felt, not for the first time since receiving the letter from Gellert, that kernel of fear grow into doubt.  Could he really do this? What would happen if he failed? He felt the pressure settle into his shoulders in a way it hadn’t since the war and strangely, it was comforting.  He was used to this: uneven odds and high pressure situations. In a strange, horrible sort of way he almost missed it.

          “Of course,” he said after a moment. “I’ll see if I can find any skeletons in his closet.”  Theseus felt Albus’ eyes on him again and fiddled with the journal in his hands to avoid meeting the man’s gaze.

          “Good man,” Gellert said approvingly, and then just as easily as he had made it arrive, the strange atmosphere faded.  “I think we should have a set meeting once a week at least for now. You can update us on your progress and pass along more urgent matters or less important brief updates using the journals.”

          Albus was still staring at him,making Theseus’ stomach uneasy in an entirely different way.  He glanced up finally to find Albus contemplating him with furrowed brows and a parted mouth.  Theseus traced that mouth with his eyes reflexively, and shifted his weight when he realized that Albus had noticed.  The auror then very pointedly looked away when Albus almost absently licked his lips in response.

          “Oh, honestly, Albus,” Gellert chided.  “If I can’t do it, and Theseus can’t do it, then neither can you.”

          “I didn’t mean,” Albus started.

          “Yes, yes,” Gellert allowed.  “You just got distracted by how handsome he looked suddenly.  I understand. Believe me.”

          “Cut it out,” Theseus ordered without thinking.  “There’s nothing going on. Not between anyone.”

          The tension from earlier returned.  Albus was making that face again, but this time Theseus stubbornly met first his gaze and then Gellert’s, but Gellert was smiling his mischievous smile again.

          “Well,” he began slowly, in a way that made Theseus take a deep subtle breath. “I wouldn’t say anyone.  Isn’t that right, love?”

          His eyes snapped to Albus in time to see him smother his surprise.  So it was a date. Theseus wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Even more, he wasn’t sure how he felt about having to decide how he felt about that.

          “Enough,” Theseus muttered, ending their banter before it could really begin.  Gellert complied easily, and Theseus watched as the serious expression from earlier returned.

          “If we fail, the world as I’ve seen it is a purgatory on earth.  Children are orphaned, entire family lines wiped out, blood running in the streets.  Purgatory,” Gellert breathed out the word, and Theseus could almost feel the hopelessness of that future.

          “What can we do to stop it?  What can we do to make sure it never happens,” Theseus asked, his voice stern and sure, though he could still feel that fear like an echo in the air. His hands clenched around the journal almost painfully tight.

          “I’m not sure of the individual steps, but I know that this is a start,” Gellert assured him.  “And I’ll of course keep looking for more information and keep you updated.”

          “I think we’ve covered all we can for today,” Theseus announced.  “Meet your contact tonight and Albus and I will go over anything else in the morning.  In the meantime, I’ll work on getting Lord Malfoy brought up on charges that might actually stick.”

          There was a look in Gellert’s eyes making Theseus feel a bit like he had just jumped off a cliff and was watching the ground rise up to meet him. The man’s eyes were serious even as his mouth was smiling.  There was a consideration to them that had been sort of half present throughout the meeting whenever the blond interacted with Albus, but was now prominent and fully and utterly focused on Theseus.

          Deliberately the man approached one step at a time, his eyes unblinking, until he was in Theseus’ space once again.  Theseus’ breath became short, unable to look away from the man. He could feel Albus watching them and it just added to the tension in his spine.  

          “I meant it, you know,”  Gellert whispered. “You’re really quite gorgeous.”

          Theseus held still in anticipation, knowing that Gellert wouldn't leave it at that. Finally, the man's hand reached out - but stopped inches away from his face. Theseus swore he could feel it sliding down his jaw anyway. Finally, he was able to tear his gaze away and turned his back to the man.  The faint crack of apparition signalled his exit, but Theseus could still feel the heat of him on the air.   

          “Well,” Albus began after the silence had settled into an almost comfortable awkwardness that Theseus was doing his best to ignore.  Theseus turned to give his former professor his attention and was arrested mid motion by the man’s amused, almost wicked expression. “That was certainly enlightening.  Wouldn’t you say so, Theseus?”

          By the time Theseus had recovered from that particular comment, the man was long gone.  Theseus stayed for a moment, looking the room over and trying to organize his thoughts, before bowing his head and pinching the bridge of his nose.  He should have insisted that Travers take this one.

  


* * *

 

 

 

**_Gellert_ **

 

          “We pushed too hard,” Albus said as they were seated at their table.  He was worried. That was fair. So was Gellert. It had been easy to get caught up in the moment.  First meetings and the whirlwind of attraction.  Looking back on it now Gellert was sure of two things.  The first being that they had indeed pushed him far too hard and would need to recalculate.  The second being that they were very much not alone in the whirlwind.

          “Not to worry,” Gellert murmured as he unfolded his napkin over his lap.  “We’ve got time to fix it. Besides,” he raised his eyes and caught sight of his contact entering the restaurant. “It wasn’t so bad as all that. We didn’t ruin anything.”

          Gellert wondered though if this dinner might.  Yes, perhaps it would have been best to reveal the contacts identity before the dinner but he hadn’t expected the days events to be quite the strain they were.  Albus would just have to forgive him the indelicate way he handled this. After all, at least he wasn’t hiding it. He watches the recognition bloom on Albus’ face and winces internally.

          Ah, yes… well.. Perhaps baby steps are best.

          “I believe you two are already well acquainted what with you spying on me on his behalf, but just to be polite: Krall, Albus.  Albus, Krall. Now that that’s done with, let’s get started, shall we?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! Please let me know what you thought! :)


	5. Seesaw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rifts between Theseus and Leta begin to show and Septimus is arrested amidst unexpected developments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from the song "Trivia: Seesaw" by BTS which rather suits Leta and Theseus at the moment.
> 
> As always my lovely beta, IHaveABadFeelingAboutThis, is a wonderful and perfect human and I would be lost without them. Thank you so much for editing this for me and letting me talk your ear off about tenses and plotlines.
> 
> BEWARE.... this chapter is very NSFW.

 

 

**_Theseus_ **

  
  
  


          While Gellert and Albus enjoy their little candlelight rendezvous Theseus is meeting a smuggler at a seedy pub off Knockturn Alley wearing a truly ridiculous number of glamors and a muggle disguise underneath just in case.  The woman he speaks with is an acquaintance of Lord Malfoy and has had many dealings with him. One of which, she divulges after Theseus uses a mixture of bribes and blackmail, is a steady supply of muggle infant blood. What he uses it for she doesn’t know and she has always turned down these requests, of course.

          She gives him enough to go on, and he spends the rest of the evening into early morning running down lead after lead until he finally gets it.  The proof. That crime alone wouldn’t get him locked up for more than ten to twenty years but coupled with the evidence they’ve found already and Gellert’s contribution, it should be enough for a longer term sentence.  Not a lifetime imprisonment Theseus isn’t delusional enough to believe that possible, not with the amount of money and favors the Malfoy are privy to), but at least fifty to eighty years, which is good enough for now.

          With Septimus away in prison, perhaps there would be hope for his son Abraxas to grow into a decent man. Already, at only a few years old, Abraxas has a reputation for being no better than his father. His mother is only a small improvement over Septimus, but it might be enough to make a difference for Abraxas. Theseus tries not to think of his own formative years after his father had gone- disappeared on a research trip and never heard from again.  He has turned out just fine. He has.

          By the time he gets the evidence over to people he can trust not to bury it, it’s close to two in the morning and he’s wide awake but mentally exhausted. This, he thinks to himself with no small degree of pride, should be quite enough to put a smile on Gellert’s face.  Albus, too, should be impressed. He’s grinning to himself unrepentantly when he opens the door and sees the light coming from inside. He’s frozen in the entryway trying to figure out why Leta would be up this late when the answer hits him and any trace of glee is gone in an instant.

          He forgot their anniversary.   They were supposed to have dinner. Theseus puts his head in his hands and sighs gustily.  Merlin, he was such a fuck up of a boyfriend. He takes off his coat and kicks off his shoes and doesn’t even have to try to look apologetic as he rounds the corner and sees her.  She’s sitting at the dining room table in the dim light and she is beautiful.  

          Her hair is coiffed and curled to perfection, her skin glowing, and she’s in the most beautiful luxurious dress Theseus has ever seen her wear but her shoes have been kicked off next to the table and she’s reclined against the back of the dining room chair like a lounging queen, unamused at her subjects’ attempts to entertain her.  There’s a wine glass held loosely in her hands and it’s nearly empty but the bottle on the table is nearly full.

          He doesn’t kid himself into thinking she hasn’t just charmed it to refill itself when it comes close to emptying.  No, by the looseness of her limbs and the unaffected look on her face she must have been drinking here, alone, for quite some time.  She didn’t seem drunk, it took quite a bit to make her well and truly drunk, but….

          “Theseus,” she said after a moment. Her voice was quiet, plain.  He felt even worse. He hurt her. He could tell by how hard she was trying to contain it. “There you are.  I was worried you had been hurt.”

          He was an ass.   Merlin, he didn’t deserve this woman.  

          “Leta,” he breathed, hands outstretched beseechingly.  “Darling, I’m so very sorry. There are no excuses.”  

          She smiles but it’s wrong.  It’s sad and shuttered and his gut twists horribly at the sight of it.  Guilt making his stomach go sour.

          “I’m sure you had your reasons.  I know you. It must have been important.”  She being too kind to him. A part of him, a large part, wishes she would yell.  Throw things even. But she’d never do that. Not Leta. Not to him. Merlin…. “I did try to reach out to Professor Dumbledore to see if perhaps you’d merely lost track of time but I couldn’t reach him either.  Your secretary said you left the office this afternoon for an outside meeting but said she couldn’t tell me more than that because it was classified and she didn’t even know where you were.”

          “Leta,” he breathes again.  “I wasn’t with Albus, I swear.”  One of her eyebrows rise but she says nothing.  And it’s not like he can say: I was tracking down evidence of corruption in a high level ministry official.  That’s why it’s classified.

          “I got swept up, I’m so very sorry.  Tell me what I can do to make this up to you.  Anything, anything you want.” He feels like he’s standing on a tight wire and she’s waiting on the other side, but she’s not waiting for him to cross, she’s waiting for him to fall. 

          “Drink with me,” she whispers and waves a hand to summon another wine glass.  He sits next to her at the small table, and together they go through about two bottles worth of wine before she leans forward and presses a hard chaste kiss on his lips.  His eyes stay open for just a moment, long enough for him to see her squeeze hers closed and crease her face around a soundless sob. When she pulls away a moment later he leaves his eyes closed, and they keep their foreheads pressed together. 

          “Lie with me,” she whispers, and he gathers her into his arms, pressing gentle soothing kisses to her mouth and he guides them in a gentle near waltz like motion down the hall.  They turn easily in tandem, mouths pressing desperately but chastely together as he removes the pins from her hair and scatters them along the floor behind them. She pulls the buttons free from his waistcoat and slides her palms and nails up his chest beneath it until it pushes over his shoulders and he rolls it off his arms.

          “Leta,” he whispers against her mouth, but the moment feels too heavy, too sacred for anything else to feel right so he stays silent.  She unknots his tie and tugs it off and drops it behind her and stops them just inside the bedroom. There’s something so frighteningly off, but he can’t keep himself from staring at her in wonder as she pulls free of him and wandlessly, wordlessly, unzips her dress to let it fall down and slowly pool at her feet.  She’s in creme colored lingerie and no underwear, and he feels like he’s just been socked in the solar plexus and the breath just whooshes out of him and it’s hard to reclaim it.  

          Yes, he reminds himself, this is how it feels.  Just like this.

          He doesn’t realize he’s trying to memorize her, memorize this moment until she steps forward and presses a hand to his cheek.  He stares deeply into her eyes and vanishes the rest of his clothes. Her eyes trail over him with a soft warm heat that makes him swallow thickly and take a deep slow breath to stop himself from just pulling her against himself. 

          She notices, she always does, and he relaxes as she presses herself against him again and rests her forehead against his. They’re looking at each other so intently that he jumps when he feels her fingers trail gently up his arms to his shoulders and then down.  They don’t break eye contact, it feels like they don’t blink, don’t even breathe until her hand wraps around him and his eyes close as a low groan leaves him. 

          Her hand is hot and tight around him, and she pulls at him once, twice, and slides her thumb through the liquid gathering in the slit and spreads it across the head.  He’s panting against her mouth, small puffs of air that move the tendrils of her hair about tickling the skin of his face. Her hand tightens around him again and she strokes him tight and perfect from base to tip and takes his mouth just as he groans out her name.  A plea, a benediction.  

          When she finally releases him, it’s to slide her nails over his chest as they travel back up to slide up the nape of his neck into his hair.  She kisses him again then, not chastely like before but somehow even more desperately. It’s deep and searching and, Merlin, whatever she’s looking for he hopes she finds it.  He hopes he gives her that much at least. He picks her up with a hand on the back of each thigh and just lifts her slowly up his body until her legs wrap around his waist and kisses her like they’re dying.  It feels like they’re dying.

          He feels like they’re drowning in each other and he doesn’t want to stop but he’s terrified that when it’s over there will be nothing left.  Nothing but emptiness and a journal in his coat pocket. She shudders against him when his fingers find her, wet and warm. Welcoming him to her heart and body as she always does, fully and unreservedly.  Merlin, he doesn’t deserve this woman.  

          He slides his fingers through the wetness he finds there and drags it over the button of her clit and drinks down her whimpers as he presses her into the mattress.  His thumb grinds against her for a moment and her legs sprawl open around his hips as she trembles. He trails his nails over the skin over her pubic bone and on the insides of her thighs and stills her squirming hips with his other hand.

          She moans, long and low, when he slides the pads of his calloused fingers roughly and slowly between her folds and presses them against her entrance without dipping inside. She bites at her bottom lip and squeezes her eyes closed again when he rubs them there in hard circles and then slides his nails over her clit.  She cries out and arches against him and she’s so beautiful, Merlin, she’s so beautiful, this woman. He slides his fingers inside and uses his magic to free her from the corset, garter, and stockings until she’s panting beneath him, finally, gloriously bare.

          He thrusts his fingers slowly deeply inside and drags his fingertips across the walls inside until he hits that hard bit of spongy flesh that wrings a whine from her throat and has her clutching at him until her nails leave harsh red trails over his arms and shoulders.  He works at her there and uses his thumb to manipulate her clit until she comes with a high desperate keening sound that she smothers against his mouth. He massages her open through her orgasm, sliding his fingers completely out of her to coax more of it free to coat that bundle of nerves beneath his thumb spreads her opens with his fingers as he starts all over again this time with three.  

          By her second orgasm there are tears in her eyes and she is kissing and biting at his neck in equal measure.  When he shimmies down her body and kisses her there she sobs and wraps her legs around his neck and he might be going above and beyond what she was asking for, but by her third orgasm she’s openly weeping and pulling him up to kiss him sweetly on the mouth, over and over, as her panting breaths make her chest heave against him in a way that’s honestly quite distracting, but he slides his hands up her throat to cup her face and brush her tears away.  They keep coming so he kisses each one away and places a gentle kiss on each of her closed eyes.

          The lie there for a long moment kissing and nuzzling at each other, clinging to each other and he feels it.  The finality. He squeezes his eyes closed at the sting of tears. This can’t be happening. How could he have let this happen?  Oh, Leta.  

          Her hand ventures down to wrap around him again, and he’s shaking against her, eyes burning.  She guides him inside of her and they both let out a heavy breath. He feels the first tear fall, and she leans up to seal her mouth against his as her hands come up to press harshly against his shoulder blades, her legs firmly wrapped around his hips, and he begins to move.  Slow deep thrusts, never pulling too far free so he never has to disconnect their mouths. She’s so scorching hot around him, clinging to him sweet and tight and it’s just all so wrong. He doesn’t know how they got to this point but he wishes they could go back. 

          He’s groaning against her mouth and they’re both crying, he knows that, knows it without opening his eyes.  They’re kissing desperately muffling their sobs and cries in each other, hands gripping desperately, bruisingly tight.  Her hips are rising to meet him and he thinks her nails have cut into his back but he can barely feel it because there’s a lump in his throat and it feels like it’s on fire. 

          She’s sobbing his name over and over against his mouth, and he buries his head in her neck and shakes it slowly back and forth and breathes her in.  Merlin, has he ever deserved her? Was there ever a time? It feels like it’s been almost a year since they really spent any time just dating and being a couple and that knowledge makes him feel even worse.   She tightens around him shuddering and her mouth falls open in a wordless cry before she is sinking her teeth into his skin with a low whine. He keeps thrusting inside as her walls flutter and grip him tightly before suddenly his world blanks out and he feels both weightless and like he’s falling.

          When everything rights itself again, he’s laying completely on top of her and she’s running her fingers soothingly through his hair.  He trails sweet slow kisses from her shoulder up her neck and mouths sleepily at her ear. Wordlessly, over and over again- _I love you.  I’m sorry. Please don’t give up on me.  I love you…. I’m sorry..._

          Their tears are mostly stopped, the tense air is gone but there’s still this heaviness in the air and he can’t get rid of it.  He doesn’t think he’ll ever get rid of it. He presses his mouth against her jaw and she turns her head and kisses him, slow, deep, searching.  He gives it to her: everything, anything. She sighs prettily against his mouth and slowly loses herself to sleep. He remains awake, clinging to her in the darkness like a terrified child.

  
  


* * *

 

 

          In the morning, everything seems to have gone back to normal, at least on the surface, but he feels like their both trying to hard to be perfect, to pretend nothing is wrong, like he’s living with a stranger.  But he’ll take it. As long as it’s not, ‘goodbye’ he’ll take anything she gives him gladly. So of course he feels horribly guilty at the relief he feels when he’s finally privated away in his office. There’s also this other feeling.  A sickening sort of eagerness that makes his breath come quickly and his eyes burn again until he settles his elbows on his desk and buries his head in his hands.

          In the two hours between him arriving and the sound of Albus greeting his secretary he’s done nothing but quietly panic at his desk and desperately search for an answer that he doesn’t find.  But the door opens and he dutifully resumes the role of Head Auror for the British Ministry of Magic and smiles politely at Albus when he steps inside. One glance at Albus and he knows suddenly that neither of them had a good night.  A vicious cruel part of himself is glad, suffer with me, it says. He clenches his jaw and ignores the way it also seems to reach out, palms open and upraised.

          “Albus,” he greets easily and ignores the assessing gaze that slowly rakes over him.  He realizes, abruptly, that he’s forgotten something rather important only as that gaze starts to linger and burn in certain areas.  He’s forgotten to heal Leta’s marks. He’d thought he heard the tittering of his secretary but had ignored it, too lost in his own tragedies to pay attention to the world around him.  Merlin, how often had he lectured his men and women against that exact same thing. Was he to fail at everything now in the same manner he failed Leta?

          He gathers his magic to heal everything over, cognizant of Albus’ silence, when he feels the man’s magic flow over him, in a warm wave, like a thick, soft blanket on a winter’s day.  It pushes at the skin and soothes away any signs, any traces of her, but then it lingers and his breath catches in his throat at the way it just slides slowly over his skin for a long moment before it fades away.  His hands grip at the journal in his hands harshly before he remembers himself and places it gently on his desk.  

          “Theseus,” Albus’ voice is thick, heavy with an emotion Theseus ignores. The tone isn’t a greeting, it sounds more like a plea and he can’t.  He just can’t.

          “How was the meeting,” he asks.  It’s too quick. The words spoken so fast it would be hard to mistake it for being the casual question it was supposed to be.  He’s off his game. He knows this, but he can’t seem to correct it. The other man’s very presence making him misstep without his consent.   He feels like he’s spiralling and the silence lingering after his question is making him fight the urge to get up and pace about the office, an odd sudden burst of adrenaline that he doesn’t know what to do with.  

          “Informative,” Albus says finally and there’s a reserved tone that wasn’t there before.  No, no, damn it this is worse. “But first, I hear congratulations are in order. The minister pulled me aside this morning to tell me you’re set to apprehend Septimus this afternoon.”

          “Yes,” he stumbling, tripping over the easy impersonal olive branch Albus has handed him and he swallows reflexively when he finally looks up and meets the solid wall of nonchalance that Albus presents him with.  It hurts, startlingly enough, but helps. He uses it to gather himself and suddenly everything is going well. Albus tells him about Krall and about how more and more pureblood families have been gathering a parties that rumors say turn dark with contemptuous whispers and double and triple entendres.  They don’t have a guestlist per se but they do have an idea of a few attendees. Gellert and Albus are each setting people to watch them, to find what little information the can without being obvious before digging into the heart of the matter.

          Theseus goes over his hunt for more evidence and eventual proof he found even though he knows that Albus must have heard this story already from the minister.  Still, Albus listens to every word, his eyes locked on Theseus’ own albeit with an impatient expression that makes Theseus’ fingers want to curl into fists and gooseflesh spread along his skin.  He fights down the shiver and keeps the professional polite mask in place even as he sees Albus’ start to fall. He’s angry. Theseus can tell and he doesn’t want to have this conversation.  

          When he finishes his story there’s a thick silence in the room and Theseus is apprehensive again, fighting the urge to squirm.  An eager feeling sizzling along his skin, but he stays still. Keeps his gaze steady. It’s a hard battle but he knows he’s won when Albus just leans back in his seat and sighs. 

          “Gellert will be happy to hear of the progress you’ve made.  That was fine work, Theseus. Splendid in fact,” Albus sounds tired already.  There’s an hour until lunch and he’s already made plans to have it with Leta before he goes for Septimus.  

          He’s not sure how the man will react.  Will he play at the confused official who cooperates in hopes that he can talk his way free or will he turn into a cornered animal and lash out?  Theseus hopes he lashes out.  

          He hopes he attacks with a fierceness that will allow Theseus some room to unleash some of this horrible tension on an adversary who would deserve it.  Maybe then, when it’s done, he can stop feeling like he’s trying to grasp at smoke. Trying to clutch these elusive tendrils between his fingers even as they slip away.  

          Theseus thanks Albus for his report and promises to check in later and makes his excuses.  When the door closes behind the man he stares blankly at it for an eternity until Leta opens it with a careful smile.  When she asks him about lunch he agrees with a broad smile that eases the tension in her shoulders and then wraps her in his arms, his lips brushing across her forehead.

  
  


* * *

 

  
  
          When he and his team appear with a crack on the edge of Malfoy grounds it’s to find the Malfoy family standing there waiting for them.  This simple fact alone fills him with dread, but hearing Septimus tell his wife that he had to step out but would be back for lunch tomorrow fills him with a frustrated anger that he has to mash down deep inside.  It wouldn’t do to throw a tantrum nor would it be a good idea to assault his charge. 

          Theseus isn’t sure who could have betrayed him, betrayed the ministry itself -  there are too many variables - but even still, there is too much evidence for even Septimus Malfoy to walk away from this.  He binds the man’s hands, and even though Lord Malfoy is cooperating, he binds his magic too, sealing the silver cuffs on his wrists without hesitation.  The man sneers down his nose at him, which Theseus absently thinks is rather impressive considering he has three inches on the man.

          He apparates him directly to the holding cells, and makes sure to keep a polite but disinterested smile on his face as he fill out the necessary form while Travers paces in the background.  Septimus is eerily pleasant now, chatting with the various employees as if they’ve all gone out for a company dinner rather than the reality of them being present to see him being booked for various dark crimes.  Theseus feels dread cause gooseflesh to breakout over the back of his neck, and he has an overwhelming urge to reach into his pocket and fiddle with the torn bit of parchment there but denies himself.

          Septimus is up to something.  That much Theseus knows for sure.  Septimus knew about the arrest today and he shouldn’t have.  He smiled and waved Theseus off when Theseus read him his rights and the charges that were being brought against him as if he already knew and was impatient to get on with it.  Lord Malfoy must think he’s going to get away with this. For some reason, he thinks this isn’t something to worry about which makes one question stand out from the hundreds swirling in Theseus’ brain.

          What has him so sure?

          “I’m sorry about all this, Septimus,” Travers is saying absently as he signs off on all the documents approving the man’s arrest and interrogation.  “We’re going to look into this as thoroughly as possible. Once you’re proven innocent you will of course be released with our apologies.”

          What?

          “Excuse me,” Theseus hears himself ask, a strange rush going through him.  “Travers, what do you mean?” There was a scoff from Travers who tosses the documents on the desk in front of him with a roll of his eyes.

          “Well, obviously, I mean that this is surely a plot to discredit the ministry by pointing out some fake corruption in our ranks.  Honestly, Theseus, don’t tell me you’ve been buying this whole thing,” Travers sounds tired suddenly and the rage that Theseus pushed down is churning within him now, rising back up like a tsunami and Theseus feels so completely out of control.  

          Why didn’t he see this coming?

          “You told him,” Theseus asks sounding stunned.  “You told a ministry official under investigation for corruption about the investigation even though it’s classified?”

          “Why, of course he did,” Septimus laughs and Theseus has to fight with himself for a long moment not to just reach out and snap the palm of his hand into the bottom of his nose. “Not only am I his superior but my clearance is above his, this investigation is well within my clearance, Theseus.  You should know that, you were there when the Minister promoted me, green as you were.”

          “Theseus,” Travers says, slowly as though he’s talking to a rather slow child, or rather, exactly the manner in which Theseus has seen him talk to his wife when she’s angry.  Theseus absently wonders what sort of expression must be on his face to induce that sort of response. It takes effort but he forces it away and leaves it blank. A boy scout, he tells himself.  They want to see the boy scout.  

          “Obviously, this investigation did have to occur, and the trial will but it’s a formality.  I’ve known Septimus since we were children. The evidence was obviously planted by-” Travers hesitates and Theseus is hopeful then that there’s at least one thing Septimus doesn’t know. “That anonymous informant of yours.  They probably planted that trail for you to follow. I mean really, the blood of muggle infants? A bit gauche, isn’t it?”

          “Still,” Theseus counts to ten forwards and backwards in his head and forces a smile.  “The investigation was ongoing and it’s against procedure to have told him.”

          “Oh,” Travers waves him off, shoulders relaxing.  He’s Travers’ boy scout after all. “You let me deal with that, the minister will come round once I explain what I’ve found through my own investigation.”

          Theseus nods and, helplessly, turns Septimus over to Travers who huffs and unbinds the man, leading him amicably down the hall to an interrogation room, calling out for one of the house elves to bring them refreshments.  Theseus watches them for but a moment before he abruptly turns on his heel and goes to his office. His secretary takes one look at his face and her own pales, her cheerful greeting dying a sour death as she drops her eyes back down to her work as he passes her.  He very, very carefully closes his door with a gentle click before waving his hand to ward and silence the room.

          That done he stands there in the stillness of his office for a long moment before he moves.  He kicks the coffee table over first. Then picks up and throws the armchair against the wall with a roar that makes his throat burn.  He slides a hand over the documents and objects on his desk, flinging them all to the floor and shattering the inkwell Leta had gotten him for his birthday.  He doesn’t hesitate, he doesn’t stop.  

          One by one the pictures on the shelves, awards given during the war, awards for the years of service with the ministry, each of them are flung with increasing fervor.  Some roll across the floor, no worse for wear but others shatter in a crescendo of glass.He grabs the underside of his desk and flips it too, kicking at the legs, sticking upright until they crack and break off.  He grabs his chair, a gift from Travers who teased him about all his late nights and then praised him for his dedication, and slams it repeatedly against the wall, screaming until his voice cracks and his limbs weaken.

          It hasn’t even been twenty minutes.  He knows this in the way he knows that Torquil Travers and Septimus Malfoy are having a rather pleasant chat a few floors down over tea and biscuits. His hands are shaking, and he can’t tell if it’s panic or if it’s the after effects of his fury.  He reaches into his pocket and wraps a fisted hand around that bit of parchment until his palm hurts and he realizes he must have cut himself. He sighs and pulls it free, unfolding it until he sees the small droplets, already staining the paper and just beneath them, the words that make his eyes squeeze close and his head slam back angrily against the wall.

_So, it appears things have become complicated then?  Are you going to handle this, Theseus? Or shall I? - GG_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo.... thoughts? :)


	6. Shifting Variables

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gellert patiently plans perfect plots.... and has lunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always to my wonderful beta. Seriously. What would I even do without you? Everyone go read IHaveABadFeelingAboutThis' fics because they are all amazing and their newest fic is a complete treat but also "For The Greater Good" is fantastic. Give yourself a gift this holiday season. Read that fic.
> 
> Sidenote: I may be MIA for a little while at least when it comes to writing both because of the holidays and because, unfortunately, my grandfather died this morning so things will be a bit tight schedule-wise so I'm not sure when I'll get writing time in. But I'll try to do bits and pieces here and there so that there isn't any noticeable difference from the normal timetable. 
> 
> I should still be popping in and out of the server like usual.

 

 

**_Gellert_ **

  
  
  


 

          It was no surprise to Gellert when he was informed, moments after Septimus was arrested, that the man had been tipped off and thoroughly covered his bases.  There’d be a snowflake’s chance in hell that he was convicted of anything major. Gellert would even be willing to bet a few hundred galleons that he wouldn’t even see the inside of Azkaban over this.

          He could leave this to Theseus, it would be interesting to see how the man would handle this… or perhaps Albus? That would be…. No, no. He should do this himself to make sure that it would get taken care of to his satisfaction.  Doing so could potentially set back his plans with Theseus and Albus, however. Perhaps there was another way, a sort of middle ground.  

          Gellert pinched the bridge of his nose feeling a tension behind his eyes.  He never used to have to deal with this. He could have just had him killed ages ago.  But, that was when he was alone. Gellert didn’t want to be alone anymore. He wanted them- his two great loves.  He wanted happiness. He wanted to wake up to them wrapped around him and mock Albus over his wine choices while Theseus did that thing he does where he tries to pretend Gellert isn’t hilarious.

          So, he thinks with a determined set of his shoulders, what is the middle ground?

          Killing him is out unless he stages something to make it look like self-defense… no… no they’d see through that. No way to get him locked up for these charges and it’d probably just look like a smear campaign if they tried again too soon, and that might affect Theseus’ job. No. There had to be some way to get him out of the way… He could arrange to have him contract Dragon Pox… No, Albus was the one who thought of that first, he would recognize it from their younger years.

          Oh.  

          Gellert laughed, throwing his head back.  Oh, the irony. He would frame Septimus for Gellert's own crimes whilst making it look as though the man had thoroughly destroyed all evidence and therefore turn public opinion against him.  He may not see a cell but he’d be ruined, resources stripped, and his reputation- and therefore influence- utterly gone. That should be quite enough. Gellert’s shoulders shook as he imagined the look on the man’s face at having gotten away with real crimes by claiming to be framed but getting caught by crimes he was actually framed for.

          Merlin, this would be _fun._   Albus would definitely be amused.  Gellert wondered absently if Theseus was angry enough currently that he would find any sort of enjoyment out of this.  Out of Gellert’s form of revenge on his behalf. Would he be flattered? Gellert ran a tongue over his bottom lip and tried to picture it but nothing came to him. 

           'Alright,' he soothed, 'I can be patient.'

  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


          Within a few days, Septimus was walking out of the Wizengamot with a smirk and a swagger that Gellert, amused, made his informant act out, twice. Lord Malfoy had received a slap on the wrist, a substantial fine that wouldn’t even put a dent in his vault and the seizure of all his dark artifacts and tomes.  Gellert was certain the man had far more than had been discovered at his home.  

          That’s fine, he reminded himself rather than allow himself to get angry.  He smiled and absently swirled his wine in his glass and hummed in acknowledgement as the woman, perturbed, continued to go over the details of the trail and Septimus’ sentence. He thanked her for her service and reminded her of the greater threat to make sure her loyalty stayed true. 

          Her chest puffed up, proud, and she told him she’d continue to keep an eye on Travers and Gellert smiled.  Good secretaries were so hard to find. He was decidedly less amused, however when she, pausing in the doorway, turned and told him of the dark look Septimus had sent Theseus’ way after the man had pushed him to the brink of what was acceptable in court.  Gellert’s smile became brittle and the woman quickly fled at the sight of it. 

          Well, perhaps murder would be the better option after all.  They’d get over it eventually. Perhaps if he put himself in a life or death situation- no, they’d see through that. He set the wine down on the coaster just a bit too harshly and tsk’d at himself.  No, stick to the plan. He’d need another few weeks to make sure it would stick, but everything should work out nicely. He glanced at the clock - almost midnight. He checked the journal - nothing, as had been the case since Theseus’ hastily scrawled, I’ve got it, thank you.

          Frustrated, Gellert paced for a moment going over every minute detail of the plan again, trying to see if he could speed up the timeline.  Maybe he should put another man on Theseus? Gellert dragged a hand through his hair trying to reach forward, trying to see. Nothing came to him.  He turned and headed for the wine, finishing off his glass and throwing it into the fireplace to shatter into a million tiny pieces. 

          ‘This is fine,’  he reminded himself.  ‘Everything is fine. Stick to the plan.’  Theseus could take care of himself, and besides, Albus was there today.  He would have seen that and would have taken precautions with Theseus’ safety.  ‘Everything is fine.’

          Gellert tossed and turned for two hours before sleep finally claimed him. 

  
  


* * *

 

 

          It was crystal clear.  Certain. Everything from the ruddy color of the bricks against Theseus’ back to the feeling of the crisp bite of Autumn in the air.  He had been seeking out a vision, that much is true, but he hadn’t exactly been looking for this. He wasn’t complaining however. 

          They’re arguing.  Theseus is asserting his independence and Gellert is asserting his claim. He can tell this is a bad idea but his future self is far too piqued to be able to be rational.  Theseus is shouting about being dragged from the restaurant and Gellert is pressing him harshly back into the bricks as he hisses about the necessity of dragging when one doesn’t want to come willingly.  This, of course, is also the wrong thing to say.  

          Gellert internally groans and wants to kick himself but can see the widening dark pupils of Theseus’ beautiful eyes. He can see the flush creeping up from his neck through the man’s coat collar, deepening over the man’s sharp cheekbones and the tops of his ears.  Gellert can also hear what sounds like the rapidfire beat of his own heart pounding in his ears. Instantly, he understands and wants to laugh. Of course. His mouth slams against Theseus’ own and greedily drinks the relieved groan from the man’s mouth. 

          Theseus’ hands are alternating between yanking him closer by his hips and then, as logic tries to assert itself, pushing him back only to get lost in the moment again each time Gellert slides his hands over his body.  Gellert tilts his head and deepens the kiss as if he wants to devour the man whole. Theseus responds beautifully, just as he knew he would. The man’s mouth parts easily for him and his tongue slides wantonly against his own and Gellert wants… 

          Gellert grabs at the man’s hips and lifts him slightly, gratified in the way Theseus lowers his head to make sure they aren’t parted even as his hands push at his shoulders.  He’s not sure whether he should laugh at the way the man’s contrary nature even follows him to this moment or pull away and watch as the man scrambles to figure out if that’s really what he wants.  The choice is pulled out of hands as Theseus’ hands change tactic and yank Gellert forward as his legs wrap around the man’s hips.

          Their cocks grind against each other and Gellert swallows down the stunned moan that tears itself free of Theseus’ mouth and works at pulling free another.  He’s so sensitive, so responsive, so very, very loud. Gellert thrusts forward, the pressure riding the edge of pleasure and pain and he groans against Theseus’ tongue.  Theseus turns his head away from Gellert, breaking their kiss and letting his eyes flutter closed. Gellert sinks his teeth into the corded muscle of the man’s throat, sucking harshly at the skin until it bruises.  Feeling a vicious pride at the way it makes Theseus’ hips writhe against his own and a long drawn out cry escape his lips. 

          'Good,' Gellert will think to himself then, 'good, let her see.  Let her see who he truly belongs to.'

          “Really, Gellert,” Albus calls from somewhere behind him.  His voice is deep and rough with want and Gellert sucks another bruise into Theseus’ skin, this time just beneath the man’s jaw. “You couldn’t wait until we could get somewhere more private?  Everyone’s going to hear him.”

          A fair point, Gellert concedes. If it was just the girl then he wouldn’t care one bit about showing her how quickly he could reduce Theseus to this craven wanton thing but no.  No one else should get to see this, the way the man’s eyes are almost entirely pupils, his breath ragged, that ruddy flush to his skin. No, this is theirs. He yanks himself free, using a hand on Theseus’ arm to make sure he settles, though roughly, on his knees before them as Albus comes up behind Gellert and slides an arm around his waist. 

          “Then shut him up, Albus.” Gellert rumbles, a hand reaching back and sliding the zipper of the man’s trousers down.  

          The effect this has on both men is electrifying.  Theseus’ mouth slips open, his tongue wetting his bottom lip as he looks up at them through his dark lashes, his eyes fierce and challenging.  Albus curses rather spectacularly under his breath, sounding for all the world like he’d just been punched right in the solar plexus, but the man was already pulling himself free through the opening in his pants.  Together they both watch Theseus’ eyes trace the man’s erection and hear the low sound in the back of the auror’s throat.  

         'Merlin,' Gellert thinks, 'this man will be the death of us.'

          He feels himself being pulled free of the vision but he lingers as long as he can, watching as his hand comes up to fist itself in the auburn locks of Theseus’ hair as he guides him forward, the man’s mouth opening wider as the head of Albus’ cock brushes against it.  That tongue snaking out to lathe at the slit and collect the fluid already building there as Theseus’ eyes flutter closed to savor the taste on his tongue. The groans that rumble through his two lovers follow him to the waking world as his own.

          His hand was working himself through the slit in his sleep pants.  Gellert squeezed his eyes closed again letting his mind linger on that image of Theseus’ tongue snaking out and sliding over the head of Albus’ cock.  His hand worked faster, his hips snapping forward and Gellert was groaning loud enough to wake the dead. He knew, he could feel the echoes of his cries off the stone walls and floors but he couldn’t seem to stop. He wanted to go to them now, call an emergency meeting and just stride in and yank Theseus into his arms, kiss him until he was just as senselessly wanting as Gellert was and then when he was pushed past the point of reason, Gellert wanted to sit back and watch as Theseus reached back and grabbed Gellert’s cock, sliding it into himself.  He wanted to see that reserve crumble to dust as the man fucked himself on his cock, wanted to hear those loud cries turn muffled as Albus fed him his erection and Theseus groaned around it.

          He wanted - Gellert’s back arched and he came into his hand with a soundless cry.  His voice cracking and breaking as his world dimmed and swayed. When he collapsed back into the bedding, panting, limbs loose and sated, he stretched out an arm next to him on the bed to feel the cool sheets and sucked in a harsh breath.

          Right. 

          He cleaned and composed himself and finally sat at his desk. He wasn’t really thinking through his actions for once, and it wasn’t until he pressed the quill to the parchment that he realized that he didn’t know what to say.  His mind was trying furiously to work towards the best conclusion but it was still slow moving, a little hazy. Instead he stared unseeingly ahead as the ink formed an ever growing splotch of inch on the paper. Frustrated with himself, he flung the quill to the other side of the room and ran a hand over his face. When he glanced down again, writing was beginning to appear on the page.

_What’s wrong? - AD_

_It’s not me.  Gellert? - TS_

_No, nothing. Just a dream. I should have more for you this afternoon. I’ll let you know then. - GG_

_Very well -TS_

_What kind of dream? Did it give you any clues? - AD_

          There was a long pause as Gellert tried to decide how much to give away.  How much was just enough to make the thought sit in their minds but not enough to push them away…

_What was it about? - AD_

_Us. - GG_

_Ah, I see._  Albus had forgotten to sign it, no doubt his mind already running along the obvious train of thought.  They knew each other very well, Albus would know exactly the kind of dream he’d had.

_What about ‘us’? - TS_

_We were_ \- here GG deliberately hesitated, allowing a small drop of ink to form suggestively at the end of the ‘e’. _Working together to solve this mystery. No clues against this Voldemort that I could discern. - GG_

          Theseus was smart a whip, Gellert acknowledged again.  He didn’t write anything for a long moment, Albus’ absence was predictable, but when Theseus finally did write, it was terse.

_Let me know when you have something. - TS_

  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  


 

          Gellert could admit to nerves. Well, he could admit it to himself, in any case. There were in fact times when he was nervous.  He didn’t bother with lying to himself about that. Most of those times, he could admit, were when Albus (and now Theseus) were involved.  So, he wasn’t surprised by the jittery feeling he got as he prepared to meet Albus for lunch. No, this much was normal. 

          Gellert smoothed down his coat for what must be the hundredth time and absently wondered about changing his shoes before discarding the idea.  As it was, he would probably barely make it before Albus. Apparating on the spot, he found himself in a recently acquired safe house. The food was already spread out on the dining room table and jazz was playing on low from across the room.  Gellert checked the wine and scrunched his nose but knew there was not time to change it.  

          He felt it when Albus arrived. The caress of cool energy washing down his back like a lover’s fingers sliding along his spine.  His lips curled into a small smile and he allowed himself a moment while he waited for Albus to test the security. A moment to take a long slow breath and adjust his body language to an easy and casual sprawl in the chair at the head of the table.  When Albus entered, Gellert’s eyes wandered the man’s form, trailing along his sharp jaw and across his broad shoulders.

          “Albus,” he purred in greeting. “You look rather dapper today.”

          “Gellert,” Albus sighed, sounding suddenly quite a bit older than Gellert had ever heard him sound. “What is this?”

          “It’s lunch,” Gellert announced cheerfully, as though he wasn’t aware of the growing tension in the room.  He had known this conversation was coming. There was far too much in their past that couldn’t be ignored. A part of him had been hoping he could put this off until more progress had been made but that clock had obviously ticked out of time.

          “I asked to meet you so we could talk.  This isn’t a date.”

          “Of course not!” Gellert agreed with a disarming smile.  “I just thought we could talk while we ate. Besides,” he gestures to the wine. “That’s hardly date appropriate wine, Albus.”

          Gellert was amused to see the hastily hidden cringe when Albus glanced at the wine label.    ‘Snob,’ he thought affectionately.

          “Very well,” Albus said finally, and the room was filled with this horrible tension.  An awkward silence lingered to the point where the smallest of sounds began to resound like cannon fire.   

          Gellert could admit to being nervous.  He could and he was very nervous. It felt like the moment you realize you’re about to fall.  The swooping plummeting feeling that grows and twists until you’re filled with panic because there’s nothing you can do to stop your descent. 

          “Gellert-”

          “I am sorry,” he interrupts, trying not to fidget. “About Ariana.”

          There was a sharp inhale from the other end of the table and Gellert realized that perhaps he was going about this the wrong way.  He always went about this the wrong way. It was such a sensitive subject, moreso for Albus, of course, but for Gellert as well. The moment his happily ever after had turned to ash in his mouth. 

          Typically, Gellert would have exploited this sensitivity, this weakness in another.   His instinct told him to use it. Use it to twist and maneuver others to his benefit. But this wasn’t some other person. It was Albus, he reminded himself. 

          'Gently,' he soothed himself. 'Gently.'

          “I never meant for any of that to happen but intention matters little in such an event.  I don’t know if I’m the one who-” he stopped, took a breath, and finally raised his eyes from the wood grain of the table to meet Albus’ eyes. “I don’t know if I’m the one who killed her.  I’ve tried to relive that moment a thousand times and I honestly don’t know, Albus.” 

          The silence that lingered now was a careful, fragile thing, and Gellert didn’t want to break it.  He didn’t want to do this. He knew it hadn’t ever ended well before and he rather hated repeating himself.  Gently.

          “I don’t know either,” Albus whispered, his grip tightening on his silverware.  He broke Gellert’s gaze to stare unseeingly at the food on his plate. “I’m not sure it matters.  It’s our fault regardless of who did it. The blame remains.”

          “Yes,” Gellert agreed, acquiescing the point for the first time in the hope of a better ending. “But should the punishment?”

          Albus’ gaze snapped back to his, his expression stormy and his lips drawn tight with anger. Albus drew himself up to his full intimidating height, an impressive feat for a man with a napkin tucked in around his collar.

          ‘Gently,’ Gellert chastised himself again.

          ‘Compromise,’ he also argued.  ‘I will not keen and roll over like a whipped dog either.’ 

          “Well, I’m sorry that the murder of my sister inconveniences you, Gellert.” Here, Gellert made the mistake of sighing and Albus stood so quickly the chair flipped over. “I don’t know what I was expecting.”

          “Oh for Merlin’s sake, Albus!” Gellert found himself shouting. “Will you listen to what I actually say instead of what you think I’m saying?” 

          “I just-” Albus shouted back before his voice cracked and they were left standing there, staring at each other with this new yet familiar kind of silence.  An angry kind. Gellert didn’t know what to say. What could he possibly say to make everything better? Why didn’t he know what to say to make things better?

          “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I don’t mean to be so…  I’m trying to be honest.”

          “I know,” Albus whispered before he slumped forward, resting his hands on the table. “I know that.”

          “I don’t know what to say,” Gellert whispered back, useless.  His throat and eyes burned so he swallowed and closed his eyes.  ‘Gently,’ he pleads with Albus. ‘Gently.’ 

          A hand covered his own, loosening the painful grip on the arm of his chair.  Gellert opened his eyes and found Albus kneeling next to him. His face was wet and full of sorrow and Gellert wanted him to scream.  Wanted him to yell and throw things and curse at him. Anything, everything! But not cry.

          “I don’t think there is anything to say, Gellert.” Albus whispered brokenly and leaned forward to rest his forehead against Gellert’s own. “Nothing except.. I missed you.”

          "And I, you," Gellert whispered so softly he was unsure if Albus even heard him until his mouth slanted over his. Their lips remembered the feel of each other, the taste of each other and as always the world seemed to stop. This silence was soft. It was peaceful and full of so much hope that Gellert felt his heart flutter in his chest.

          There would be more to say, of course there would be. There were years of grievances, resentments, and accusations. Years of misunderstandings and missed opportunities. But they had all day for that. 

          For now this was enough.


	7. Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Penny Drops.... so does the other shoe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always such a huge thank you to IHaveABadFeelingAboutThis for being my voice of reason and beta. You're the best cheerleader and I'm totally your spoiled baby at this point. 
> 
> For best feels please listen to Slip Away by Unsecret and Ruelle: https://tinyurl.com/vwqh4q6

  
  


**_Theseus_ **

  
  
  
  
  


At first, Theseus thinks he may be becoming a bit paranoid.  It isn’t until the fifth time he’s turned a random corner and seen the man in the distance follow him that he’s sure of it.  Whether the man belongs to Septimus, Albus, or Gellert doesn’t really matter at this point. They’re in what has become an active battle field and he has no time for tagalongs, even friendly ones.  Not when he can’t trust their minds to remain their own. 

 

When he first got the notice of the riots in muggle london he thought it odd that the aurors were being called in to investigate, but now that he’s here to witness it for himself he’s wishing they were called in sooner.  By the time they had gathered their forces, were briefed on the mission, and departed, the number of muggle deaths were approaching triple digits. A wizard had gotten ahold of a cursed artifact that, among other things, seemed to be able to induce and then magnify high levels of aggression -  and had then decided to test it out in muggle London.

 

The resulting bloodbath is horrifying and brings back memories Theseus wishes he could forget. He shoots a series of spells off behind him and hears an aborted scream as the man goes down, unconscious but mostly unharmed.  Theseus sends a patronus message to the medical team they brought with them to come collect the man and bring him to St. Mungo’s before continuing on his way.  

 

Finding the wizard is relatively easy, but getting to him proves to be harder.  In the end Theseus loses three men to infighting and several more are grievously injured.  Theseus himself manages to get away with a split lip and some bruising through a combination of luck and quick reflexes.  He takes pleasure in slowly breaking through the man’s defenses and whittling away at his stamina until finally Theseus slides a series of hexes past a shield charm raised too late, and the man goes down.  If Theseus happens to accidentally step on him as he moves to contain the object, then no one makes mention of it in their report.

 

The medical team has managed to take the injured members of his team for treatment before he’s even gotten the object crated, sealed, and warded. Theseus binds the wizard and collects his remaining men to return to the ministry.  When he sees Travers barking orders at the returning aurors it takes everything in Theseus to refrain from storming over and screaming at the man.  

 

Where were you?  He wants to ask. What happened to our reinforcements?  Why did it take so long for you to call us in? How many-  How many people did we fail to save?

 

Logically, however, he knows it isn’t all Travers’ fault, and that a majority of this reaction is colored by his pent up frustration and anger at the man’s actions regarding Septimus Malfoy, mixed with the horror of what he witnessed today, and guilt over his failure to save the men he’s lost.   So he bites his tongue and plays the Boy Scout, debriefing as quickly and efficiently as he can in the lobby while his men book the prisoner and take the object for classification in the Department of Mysteries. It’ll be their problem now. Theseus privately hopes they just toss it through the damned arch and be done with it.

 

He can feel the day’s aches and pains starting to catch up with him. He just wants to finish this conversation so he go to his office and try to figure out what he’s going to say to these men’s families.  Travers however, is wanting to make a spectacle of the department’s ability to catch criminals without other criminals gifting them to the ministry wrapped up in a giant bow. He doesn’t say as much, of course, but Theseus can read between the lines.  

 

He glances around the room to avoid rolling his eyes and spots Albus.  The man’s dressed like he’s just happened to stop by, which is of course ridiculous, but he’s unsure if anyone has had the gall to call him on that yet.  Travers finally, thankfully, steps away, preparing to question the man - and get the credit for his capture of course, leaving Theseus without anything to stop Albus’ slow approach.  So, naturally, he turns and leaves the room as quickly as he’s able to without making a scene.

 

He’s not so much surprised as exasperated when Albus steps into the elevator with him, and they go careening to the floor that houses the DMLE.  Albus doesn’t say a word until the door to Theseus’ office clicks closed behind them, a rather inappropriately theatrical wave of his hand letting Theseus know he’s finished silencing and warding the office.  Theseus leans back against his desk, exhausted and sore, and meets Albus’ eyes. 

 

The man looks well put together to the untrained eye, but Theseus can see it, the one button that’s not been fastened securely on his coat, the stray strands of hair sticking up from where he must have just ran his hands through his hair and jammed a fedora on top and hoped no one would notice.   Theseus can see the slight furrow to his brow and the slight sheen of sweat just starting to fade at the man’s temples. The anger he’d been using as fuel for the last hour is ripped from him and he sags into a slouch with a sigh.

 

Albus takes a few steps forward and reaches out a hand and Theseus is struck suddenly by how much he wants to step forward to meet him.  Wants to bury his face in the man’s shoulder and just stay there, wrapped in his arms until his world rights itself again and he somehow knows what he’s going to say the pregnant wife of one of the dead aurors.  Wants to slide his arms around the man in turn and run his nose along his, press a long chaste kiss to the man’s mouth- Theseus jerks back, away from that hand which has become much more threatening now than moments ago.

 

Theseus feels the cold shock of fear clawing its way up his spine and he holds out his own hand to stop the man in his tracks, his brain working quickly, trying not to put together the pieces of the last several months in this new way.  This terrible, horrible, and sensible way. 

 

“Theseus,” Albus says, probably misreading Theseus’s encroaching panic.  He can’t handle this. There’s too much to do and too much that’s already been done and there’s no way Theseus can afford to fall apart now.  

 

“Don’t.”  Theseus meant for it to come out strong and assertive.  To put a halt to this dance they’ve apparently been doing this whole time.  Instead it’s weak and broken, his voice soft and pleading. The auror sees this hit Albus like a punch to the face and the man’s hand withdrawals but he stays where he is.

 

“We were worried when we heard the news.”  We…. Gellert. Theseus feels those pieces snap into place; a hand sliding down his neck and an intense dark gaze- are you so very unaffected, Mr. Scamander?  “Everyone was saying we lost some aurors today.”

 

“We did,” Theseus forces himself to say, shoving The Gellert Problem away to deal with at another time.  He rubs at his face and winces at the sting of his split lip. “I’m fine but we lost three good men today and I’ve quite a bit of paperwork to do at the moment so if you don’t mind-”

 

Albus steps abruptly into Theseus’ space and tosses his fedora on the desk over Theseus’ shoulder.  Theseus sighs and tries not to grit his teeth but it feels like a losing battle. He’s lost instantly when Albus catches Theseus’ chin between his fingers and he swipes away the blood with the pad of his thumb.  Their eyes lock again and the room suddenly feels far too small, the air too stale and warm.  

 

Theseus feels it again then, that wave of magic washing over him and soothing the hurts, healing bruises, and mending bone.  Finally, after the last of his aches fade, he watches Albus’ gaze drop to his mouth and he feels the sting of his lip slowly vanish.  Nervously, he licks his lip tasting the blood there but finding no source. Albus inhales sharply, his eyes following the movement of his tongue as it disappears back into his mouth. Theseus tries desperately to ignore what he now knows are butterflies in his stomach, but that’s getting harder with Albus leaning in, taller than him now that Theseus is sitting on the edge of his desk.

 

He smells like ink and parchment and some strange combination of sweetness and spice that Theseus knows is familiar but can’t place.  Albus’ breath drifts over Theseus’ face and the younger man screams at himself internally when his head tilts back, eyes falling to Albus’ mouth.  The man’s legs brush Theseus’ knees and he looks further up to catch Albus’ eyes. He can tell the exact moment the man realizes that Theseus knowingly wants Albus to kiss him.  The exact moment when the man decides to.

 

“Albus,” he whispers a little too desperately. “I need you to leave.”

 

“I know.” Albus says, halted but not pulling away and then like a splash of cold water on his face, “Leta.”  Theseus tries not to flinch and instead latches on to this mention of her, this lifeline.

 

“I love her,” he breathes pleadingly and watches a cold shuttered expression appear on Albus’ face.  Theseus’ cock, already half-erect, stiffens further at the sight of it. Theseus forces the image of Leta sitting at their dining room table in near complete darkness to his mind.  “I’m going to marry her one day.”

 

The way Albus’ jaw clenches almost sends shiver down Theseus’ spine and he swallows down the urge to slide his hand up to trace it.  Albus runs his thumb roughly over Theseus’ bottom lip pressing into the skin and the tip of Theseus’ tongue brushes against it. Both men freeze instantly and Theseus could swear he hears a low groan echoing around the room as it fades away but he isn’t able to say whose it was. His mouth has gone dry, and he feels his heart pounding a frantic drum beat that he can damn near feel against his ribs.

 

“You’re right, of course.” Albus says, almost conversationally.  His eyes are trailing Theseus’ face, and if they weren’t dark and heavily dilated Theseus would believe that tone.  “I should go.”

 

Theseus feels a rush of disappointment and relief in equal measures, and then his mind goes completely and utterly blank as Albus’ hand slides up his jaw and into his hair.  The man leans even closer until Theseus would barely be able to fit his hand between them. The auror’s breath comes quicker and his mouth parts. Albus’ hand slides out of his hair and past him over his shoulder to close around his hat, and then he completely withdraws until he’s a socially acceptable distance away.  Theseus stares blankly at him, flushed and clutching at the edge of his desk with white knuckled hands.

 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Albus says as he dons his hat and brushes imaginary dust from the arm of his coat. He turns his back to the still silent auror, and Theseus knows the silencing and warding spells have been undone by the way the man easily opens the door and leaves with a: “Good evening, Thesesus.  I’ll see you at the meeting tomorrow.”

 

Theseus doesn’t bother trying to respond before the door closes behind him.  Instead he let’s his head hang forward and curses harshly under his breath trying to steady himself and will away the throbbing erection pressing painfully against the front of his trousers.  It only partially works, and he adjusts himself with a huff.

 

Barely a few minutes have passed before Leta opens the door, her worried expression disappearing as she takes him in.  There’s no way she missed Albus on her way down the hall to his office, Theseus acknowledges, feeling guilty and distraught.  Then feeling abruptly even more horrible as a knowing concerned look fills her eyes. He truly doesn’t deserve her.

 

She pulls her wand free and first silences and then wards the room.  Theseus can only imagine what delightful stories his secretary will be telling everyone about this tomorrow.  He waits, miserable, for her to approach him, and the comforting arms that wrap around him make him feel both better and worse.

 

“I heard we lost some good men today.  I knew you’d be feeling awful, so,” Leta trails off, her hands running up and down his back and he feels that grief rise up.  Theseus wraps his arms around her and breathes her in. The familiar lingering scent of jasmine and sweet pea making his muscles relax and his heart finally slow.  

 

He tightens his grip on her until it’s probably hurting her, but Leta doesn’t even flinch, tightening her own arms in kind.  The crazy mess of voices in his head shouting all the things he needs to do, how much better he needs to be, they all just quiet instantly in the face of Leta’s silent compassion.

 

“It never gets any easier,” he whispers finally.  “But this time…”

 

“This time they were our friends,” Leta says, her voice strained with her own quiet grief.  “There’s no way that part could ever get easier. There’s nothing you could have done to save them, my love.  Just like there’s nothing you can really say that will make it better. So instead tell them the truth. Tell them that their husbands and sons were very brave and strong.  Tell them they were your best friends. Tell them we’re here for them, for whatever they need. There’s nothing else you can really say except for that.”

 

Theseus takes in a deep long breath and then slowly, slowly, lets it out.  He buries his face back in her hair and they stay there, wrapped up in each other in his office for what feels both like hours and no time at all.   Finally, he presses a series of kisses along her jaw and sees the corners of her mouth pull up into a warm smile.  

 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he teases coyly.  This doesn’t quite have the effect he was hoping for. Her smiles fades and a sad furrow forms at her brow, that warm and happy feeling that had filled his office is abruptly snuffed out and instead he feels this slow dawning horror replace it.

 

“So, I love you,” Leta says, like saying the sky is blue, the sun is warm, and the night is dark.  “I love you, Thee.”

 

“I love you, too.” He says instantly, like saying Newt is his brother, he is Head Auror, and he sometimes misses the war.  She pulls back to catch his eye while remaining in the cradle of his arms.

 

“I think we need to take a break,” Leta starts, and she shoots him a look when he goes to interrupt her.  He quiets and she smiles at him reassuringly, but he can just tell that neither of them are very reassured by it.  “I’m not… we’re not breaking up. But I think we can both agree that things are going a little crazy with your work, and you need to focus there for right now, and that while we love each other.. It seems like… it’s changing.  The passion is going and I think we need to find it again. But.. I don’t think we can do that if we’re living together and seeing each other all the time. We’ve become a bit too much like flatmates who sleep together and not enough like lovers in love.”

 

Theseus pauses not knowing what to say and how to convince her she’s wrong when they both know she isn’t.   This relief of pressure and expectation renders him unable to argue when he feels like this bittersweet moment has been long in the making.  Unable to argue though he wants to. He wants to say the right thing to say, wants to do the right thing to do, and be the right man to be.

 

“I’m going to go and stay back in my flat for a while, but why don’t we have dinner this weekend.  Just let me know when and where works best for you, and we’ll go from there,” here Leta pauses, unsure.  Theseus tries to remember the last time she was unsure around him and the number of times is staggering… heartbreaking. 

 

“And, Theseus?”  He looks at her and she smiles impishly in a way that only just reaches her eyes.   “You have my full support in getting whatever this is out of your system. In any way you have to do that.  Do you understand?”

 

He closes his eyes and lets out a breath. “I don’t want this.  I don’t want to do this. But-”

 

“But you know that we can’t go on the way we’ve been going on,” Leta says and releases him.  She kisses him on the cheek, lingering for a moment before pulling away. “This is for the best.  Either we fix it and go back to how we were or we realize we can’t, but it’s best to know now before we get in so deep that we can’t look at each other afterwards.”

 

Theseus tries to find hope in that, the fact that they’re still going to try.  The fact that even if it doesn’t work out it won’t destroy everything they’ve already built, everything they share. “Dating, then?”

 

“Yes,” she squeezes his hand. “Dating.”

 

He tries to feel like this is just a new beginning.  He does, really he does. But he knows this is just the beginning of an ending. He sees the light sheen to her eyes and he knows that she knows it too.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, please leave me a comment about what you liked about the chapter...   
> I have a praise kink.   
> Feed me.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to join me and other shippers on the discord channel: https://discord.gg/EhyqSwy
> 
> Leave me a comment and I'll get back to you as soon as I can.


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